The Hunsford Living
by austentacious1216
Summary: Mr. Collins, the Bennets' cousin, is a handsome, amiable gentleman, much to the surprise of his relations at Longbourn. He and Elizabeth easily fall into a close friendship. Mr. Collin's growing affection for Elizabeth does not go unnoticed by Mr. Darcy, prompting new twists and turns in this classic romance. (Elizabeth/Darcy HEA)
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Much of the plot and most of the characters herein belong to our dearest Jane, not myself. I am simply amusing myself (and hopefully my readers) with a few tweaks to Miss Austen's beloved work, _Pride and Prejudice_.

 **A/N: (8/16/16 – Updated with some suggested edits)**

 **Hello, dear readers! Please enjoy this, the (rather short) opening chapter of this work in progress, tentatively titled "The Hunsford Living". This is my first attempt at fan fiction (and my first fiction work of any kind since I inhabited a desk in Miss Parker's junior high creative writing class … it's been awhile!). I am in the beginning stages of working through an outline and getting a general idea of where the diversions from Miss Austen's plot will take our beloved characters, so updates will not be terribly frequent to start (I would expect one chapter roughly every two weeks as a conservative estimate).**

 **We pick up with the Bennet family in Chapter 13 of Jane Austen's** _ **Pride and Prejudice**_ **, with Elizabeth and Jane having just returned from their prolonged stay at Netherfield the day prior. As you will see from his letter and arrival at Longbourn, Mr. Collins in quite OOC in this work. Think more along the lines of Henry Tilney of** _ **Northanger Abbey**_ **fame (in fact, along the lines of actor JJ Feild who played Henry Tilney in the Masterpiece adaptation of that film) than the decidedly skeevy Mr. Collins of the 1995 or 2005** _ **Pride and Prejudice**_ **film adaptations (::shudders at the thought of that creepy fellow:: ). This will ultimately lead us off canon in the plot as well.**

 **Please review – both encouragement and** _ **constructive**_ **criticism would be greatly appreciated.**

Elizabeth Bennet quietly made her way downstairs to the dining room to break her fast the morning following her and her sister Jane's return from Netherfield. She hoped that her mother's strictures on their – in her estimation – untimely departure from that great house were exhausted the evening prior so that she might eat breakfast in peace, finally free of the ever critical gazes of Mr. Darcy and Miss Bingley. She added a few selections to her plate from the modest spread laid out on the sideboard and slipped into a seat next to Jane.

Once all of his daughters had taken their seats, Mr. Bennet addressed his wife, "I hope, my dear that you have ordered a good dinner to-day, because I have reason to expect an addition to our family party."

"Who do you mean, my dear? I know of nobody that is coming, I am sure, unless Charlotte Lucas should happen to call in; and I hope _my_ dinners are good enough for her. I do not believe she often sees such at home."

"The person of whom I speak is a gentleman and a stranger." Mrs. Bennet's eyes sparkled. "A gentleman and a stranger! It is Mr. Bingley, I am sure. Why, Jane – you never dropped a word of this – you sly thing! Well, I am sure I shall be extremely glad to see Mr. Bingley. But – good Lord! how unlucky! there is not a bit of fish to be got to-day. Lydia, my love, ring the bell. I must speak to Hill this moment."

"It is _not_ Mr. Bingley," said her husband; "it is a person whom I never saw in the whole course of my life."

This roused a general astonishment; and he had the pleasure of being eagerly questioned by his wife and five daughters at once.

After amusing himself for some time with their curiosity, he thus explained: - "About a month ago I received this letter, and about a fortnight ago I answered it; for I thought it a case of some delicacy, and requiring early attention. It is from my cousin, Mr. Collins, who, when I am dead, may turn you all out of this house as soon as he pleases."

"Oh, my dear," cried his wife, "I cannot bear to hear that mentioned. Pray do not talk of that odious man. I do think it the hardest thing in the world, that your estate should be entailed away from your own children; and I am sure, if I had been you, I should have tried long ago to do something or other about it."

Jane and Elizabeth attempted to explain to her the nature of an entail. They had often attempted it before: but it was a subject on which Mrs. Bennet was beyond the reach of reason; and she continued to rail bitterly against the cruelty of settling an estate away from a family of five daughters, in favour of a man whom nobody cared anything about.

"It certainly is a most iniquitous affair," said Mr. Bennet; "and nothing can clear Mr. Collins from the guilt of inheriting Longbourn. But if you will listen to his letter, you may, perhaps, be a little softened by his manner of expressing himself."

"No, that I am sure I shall not; and I think it was very impertinent of him to write to you at all, and very hypocritical. I hate such false friends. Why could not he keep on quarreling with you, as his father did before him?"

"Why, indeed, he does seem to have some filial scruples on that head, as you will hear."

"Hunsford, Near Westerham, Kent

15th October

Dear Sir,

The disagreement subsisting between yourself and my late honoured father always gave me much uneasiness. Though bound by honour to respect his wishes during his lifetime, it is my desire that the disagreement that resulted in this breach in familial connections be laid to rest along with my dear father. I have recently received my ordination and have been distinguished by the patronage of the Right Honourable Lady Catherine de Bourgh, widow of Sir Lewis de Bourgh. Though I suspect Lady Catherine intends to have greater role in my parish duties and personal affairs than I am wont to allow, I am grateful for her patronage. It is a valuable living, and I am hopeful of making some small difference in the local parish. Lady Catherine has been kind enough to give me leave to visit should you be willing to extend an invitation. I would be most grateful for the opportunity to better acquaint myself with you and your family. Would Monday, November 18th by four o'clock be agreeable? I would hope to trespass on your kindness for a se'night following, possibly longer if I am able to engage another clergyman to cover Sunday services for a longer period. I hope to receive your reply forthwith as I am eager to reestablish our connection. With my sincerest regard for you, your wife, and daughters, I am ever your servant,

William Collins"

"At four o'clock therefore, we may expect this peacemaking gentleman," said Mr. Bennet, as he folded up the letter. "He seems a most conscientious and polite young man, upon my word; and I doubt not, will prove a valuable acquaintance, especially if Lady Catherine should be so indulgent as to let him come to us again."

Mrs. Bennet fidgeted at the opposite end of the table, not at all pleased with the news of their guest. "What can he mean by coming here? I cannot fathom a reason to visit us unless he means to survey his future estate and lord over us. Such impertinence cannot be borne."

"Perhaps he wishes to establish the location of the nearest hedgerows," Elizabeth whispered just loud enough for Jane to hear, prompting Jane to kick her underneath the table and shoot her a warning glance.

Wishing to steer the conversation in a more cheerful direction, Jane then turned and smiled softly at her mother, replying, "Mama, I am sure Mr. Collins has good intentions. We cannot hold him responsible for our misfortune, however he may benefit from the situation. Surely an amiable acquaintance with him is much to be desired over one of hostility?"

"Oh Jane, perhaps you are right, but I cannot like it," their mother sighed.

Elizabeth stifled a laugh and shook her head. _Only dear Jane could have elicited such acquiescence from mama. She would have scolded me soundly for the very same sentiments_ she mused.

Mary Bennet offered a number of moralizing statements in support of Jane's assertion, much to Mr. Bennet and Elizabeth's amusement. Kitty and Lydia could not be bothered to attend the conversation at all. Their thoughts and conspiratorial whispers were ensconced in subjects lying several miles off in Meryton, adorned in scarlet coats. A clergyman held no such amusement for them, even if he was to inherit.

Curious at her father's unusual lack of commentary on their soon-to-arrive guest, Elizabeth inquired of him, "And what do you think father? Can he be a sensible man given your knowledge of his father?"

"I confess I am disappointed by his letter, my dear. He does seem as though he might be a man of some sense. I had hoped to find some amusement in the young man as his father was quite the reverse," Mr. Bennet paused, smirked, and then resumed in a more jovial tone, "But perhaps at length he may prove to be just as ridiculous as his father before him and we may make sport of him after all."

Elizabeth chuckled and after a moment of thought, countered him, "Indeed, Papa, but perhaps we might be glad of him being a man of sense. One does not always like the idea of being judged by one's closest relatives." At this she nodded significantly toward her mother whose shrill tones and fretful manner were threatening to unravel the nerves of their beloved housekeeper, Mrs. Hill, who had just arrived to receive instructions for preparations for receiving their guest.

Mr. Bennet could not help agreeing with his favorite daughter, but nonetheless replied, "Yes, yes, Lizzy, but I will not have you wishing away a fresh source of amusement for your dear Papa."

And so it was that Mr. Bennet, his wife, and all his daughters found themselves outside awaiting their guest's arrival that afternoon. Mr. Collins was punctual to his time, and was received by great politeness by the whole family. Mr. Bennet indeed said little; but the ladies were ready enough to talk. Mr. Collins himself seemed eager to engage in conversation, though Elizabeth detected a hint of awkwardness. He was a tall, trim young man of five-and-twenty. Having been so accustomed to think ill of him, the Bennets were surprised to find him handsome in person and address. He had a pleasing air and his manners were decidedly those of a gentleman. He thanked Mrs. Bennet for her warm welcome and complimented her on her charming home. At this, Mrs. Bennet bristled, no doubt thinking her earlier sentiments regarding his desire to survey his future estate confirmed, and offered a curt reply.

Elizabeth noted a slight blush on Mr. Collins cheeks following this exchange. _Is he embarrassed at what might be construed as a reference to the entail? Perhaps he has more sense than Papa thought possible._


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Much of the plot and most of the characters herein belong to our dearest Jane, not myself. I am simply amusing myself (and hopefully my readers) with a few tweaks to Miss Austen's beloved work, _Pride and Prejudice_.

 **A/N: (8/16/16 – Updated to make minor revisions based on suggested edits for word usage and the like.)**

 **Surprise! A new chapter already! Thank you for all of your encouraging reviews. They truly do feed my muse. A few things before we return to Longbourn:**

 **I will continue to try to respond to as many reviews as time allows. I cannot do this for guest reviews or those who have the PM option turned off. Just a heads up in case you want to remedy either of those issues. ;)**

 **Thank you to the Guest Reviewer who provided feedback on greedy gut Lizzy filling her plate along with other breakfast norms of the time. I have noted your feedback and will go back to address it in Chapter One as soon as my muse is satisfied regarding new material.**

 **To the three Guest Reviewers who had concerns regarding character development for the often overlooked Bennet sisters, I think you will be pleased as we move forward. Mr. Collins presence will impact not just the Elizabeth / Darcy situation. There will be a ripple effect through the entire Bennet family. Be patient with me and we will get there. Though Lydia may be beyond saving (I find it funny that two of you made that comment), we will get more insight into her character as well.**

 **To one of these same Guest Reviewers, I cannot make any promises on a Mr. Collins / Kitty match. Honestly, I do not think there will be a Mrs. Collins by the end of this story. Any affection he develops for Elizabeth would be cheapened if he could move on so quickly. My thought is to hint at the beginning of a new possibility before the last page is turned versus resolving his matrimonial situation entirely. I do not as of yet know who might be the potential Mrs. Collins. I want to get to know the characters better before I make that decision. I hope that makes sense.**

Despite not having so much as requested a tour of Longbourn or leave to count the silver, Mr. Collins was still the object of Mrs. Bennet's ire as the Bennet family and their guest seated themselves for dinner that evening.

During dinner, Mr. Bennet scarcely spoke at all; but when the servants were withdrawn, he thought it time to have some conversation with his guest, and therefore started by observing that he seemed very fortunate in his patroness.

"Indeed, sir. I am very fortunate to have been given the living at Hunsford so soon after my ordination," Mr. Collins answered tentatively.

Sensing the young man's hesitation and not at all satisfied with such a sensible answer, Mr. Bennet pressed on, "And what of the lady herself? Surely such an illustrious patroness elicits more effusive praise than that."

Mr. Collins thought for a moment before replying, "Lady Catherine's position of course entitles her to some degree of deference, particularly as my patroness. She, like most of those of her rank, knows her place in society and is very conscious of the duties of rank and family connections."

"Come now, young man. You are equivocating." Mr. Bennet huffed, sorely disappointed at the lack of amusement to be found in his guest's answers.

The corner of Mr. Collins mouth turned up, suggesting some amusement. "As I hinted in my letter, Lady Catherine is very attentive. She has condescended to review my sermons and suggest changes, most of which I neglect to make. She has arranged for alterations at the parsonage, a service to which I owe a remarkable set of shelves in one of my upstairs closets. And she has advised me on a number of more personal matters, the most recent of which is the selection of a wife. In this affair I find I prefer to seek to gratify my own wishes over hers." Here he paused before continuing, "Nothing is beneath her notice; however one might wish it to be. I find I need the patience of Job to fulfill my duties tolerably," he finished in mock solemnity.

At this, Mr. Bennet's frustration gave way to laughter, and Mr. Collins smiled openly as the tension that had settled over the room lessened significantly, "I believe, sir," he added, "that you may have preferred her company over mine as you would have found her manners and instructive discourse far more diverting than my own."

"There now, Mr. Collins. We have the truth of it," Mr. Bennet smiled at his cousin, surprised to find himself liking the young man and not nearly as disappointed in the event as he thought he might be.

"Truly, sir, I am quite grateful for the living. Her Ladyship's interference may not be welcome at times, but I find that I can endure it with equanimity when I consider the good I am able to do for her tenants and others in the parish."

Mrs. Bennet and her daughters had been listening in silence for some time as the two men talked of Mr. Collins' noble patroness, smiling and nodding their heads as required demonstrating their attentiveness. At length, however, Mrs. Bennet, for whom the entail was still foremost in her mind, spoke up, "This is all good and well, Mr. Collins, but what of this estate where you have been given a living?"

"Rosings Park is a beautiful estate with excellent grounds. I am fortunate that Hunsford is situated so close to the park as I quite enjoy exploring all that nature has to offer there."

"Lizzy is very fond of nature as well," Kitty spoke up, having as of yet had no share in the conversation, "She is always rambling about the woods. Lydia and I limit ours walks to town, but Lizzy knows the paths and woods here better than anyone."

"Ay, and she has even climbed a tree just so she could hide and attempt to frighten us as we walked by," Lydia added, giggling.

"Girls! Must you expose us all to ridicule on account of your sister's hoydenish behavior?" Mrs. Bennet scolded. Elizabeth blushed, but she could not help smiling when she looked up and noticed her cousin's obvious attempt to suppress laughter at this revelation.

"Indeed?" Mr. Collins addressed Elizabeth, having adequately contained his mirth,"And are you a horsewoman, Miss Elizabeth, or do you prefer to explore on foot?"

"On foot, sir," she replied, "I am not entirely comfortable on horseback. Jane is the horsewoman of the family."

"I imagine it is easier to hide without a horse to dispose of in any case."

"Oh yes, Nellie has never been any good at hide-and-seek." She said matter-of-factly, though the corners of her mouth turned up slightly as she fought to remain serious, "Nor at climbing trees." Here Mr. Collins let out a deep melodious laugh, having accurately deduced that Nellie was the Bennets' mare.

"Oh Lord, Lizzy. Must you carry on so?" Mrs. Bennet exclaimed and then turned to Mr. Collins with a severe countenance that led him to quickly stifle his laughter, "You see, sir, what a challenge I may have in seeing my five girls well established. Lizzy especially. And with an entail besides. What are we to do with ourselves when Mr. Bennet dies? This is _our_ home, sir. It is a hard thing for me and my girls."

"Mama – " Jane began, afraid of what more her mother might say to offend their guest.

"If I may, Miss Bennet?" Mr. Collins interrupted quietly, and then addressed himself to his hostess, "I understand your reservations about my presence here, Mrs. Bennet. You have a fine home and keep an excellent table, yet for me to compliment you on these things as one generally does on such occasions could easily be misconstrued as eager anticipation on my part. While I confess I do take an interest in this estate insomuch as I desire to be prepared to one day take over and run it in a manner that will lend respectability to our family and honor to Mr. Bennet's memory, I assure you I am in no hurry to inherit Longbourn. I am quite content in my chosen profession, and the generous living I have been granted more than satisfies my needs at present." Here Mr. Collins turned to address Mr. Bennet, "Sir, I would also wish you to know that should anything happen to you, your wife and daughters will always have a place here at Longbourn, though I truly hope it will be quite some time before that becomes a consideration."

"Very good, Mr. Collins, though I may not thank you for such sentiments when I am far advanced in years and rapidly losing my faculties. Perhaps I wish to depart while still in possession of my youthful vigor." Mr. Bennet chuckled. Though his answer might suggest otherwise, Mr. Bennet was touched by the young man's sincerity. There was something like a twinge of guilt that he quickly brushed aside, not yet prepared to lay himself open to self-examination.

"This is a grand gesture indeed, Mr. Collins, but might not your wife oppose such a scheme?" Elizabeth asked, wondering at the wisdom of making such a bold promise.

"Oh, Lizzy, haven't you been paying attention? Mr. Collins has no wife," Lydia interjected.

"You are correct, Miss Lydia. However, I believe your sister refers to the possibility of my marrying in the future," Mr. Collins responded kindly.

"Indeed. Surely it would not help your suit with the lady if the future Mrs. Collins must look forward to taking in all of her husband's female relatives at some point, particularly as there are quite a number of us. From a woman's perspective, the prospect would seem daunting."

"You argue a fair point, Miss Elizabeth. I am hopeful, however, that should I meet and fall in love with a lady, that she will be kind and compassionate and love me in return. If she does, I have great hopes that she will open her heart and home to my family as much out of care and respect for them as for me."

"Do you intend to marry for love then, cousin?" Jane asked, with a side glance at Elizabeth.

"I do."

Elizabeth smiled warmly at him. "Are you satisfied then?" he asked, returning her smile.

"Yes. I can find no fault in your reasoning," she paused, her eyes bright with mischief, "Though I think upon closer acquaintance with our energetic family, you may find cause to rethink your offer in consideration for the poor lady's nerves if you truly love her." She smiled handsomely at Mr. Collins, who found himself quite taken with her playful manner.

No longer under threat of being tossed out into the hedgerows, Mrs. Bennet's demeanor improved remarkably. Though she might still be justly accused of being ridiculous, her attentions to Mr. Collins were at least more favorable than before. She was now prepared to discuss silk, lace, wall coverings, and chimney pieces at length. Mr. Collins regaled her with detailed descriptions of Lady Catherine de Bourgh's gowns and the elaborate décor that graced the halls and drawing rooms – for there were several – of Rosings Park. After indulging her fancy in this manner for some time, he watched her sigh longingly and smiled warmly at her, "Still, with all of the gilding and ornate furnishings adorning Rosings Park, I find it sadly wanting."

Mrs. Bennet's eyes widened in surprise. "How so, Mr. Collins? Surely her ladyship wants for nothing as she is no doubt rich beyond comprehension," she said incredulously.

"She is, indeed, quite rich, Mrs. Bennet, but in taste and warmth of true affection – of love – she is sorely lacking. Money does not buy happiness, madam. In these things, the things that truly matter, you are far her superior."

All of the Bennets found themselves pleased to some degree with their handsome cousin. He was charming enough to amuse even his youngest cousins, and yet thoughtful and serious to a degree that garnered appreciation from his Cousin Mary. Mrs. Bennet began to consider which of her girls might be best suited to be the young clergyman's wife, and Mr. Bennet determined that he need not spend quite so much time in his book room during Mr. Collins visit, unless of course the gentlemen wished to join him there for a game of chess or a glass of port.

At teatime, Mr. Bennet led his guest into the drawing-room, and when teas was over, he invited Mr. Collins to read aloud to the ladies. Mr. Collins readily assented, and several books were produced from which he might make a selection.

As he examined the proffered volumes, Mary crossed the room to speak with him, "Perhaps a reading of Fordyce's Sermons might be more appropriate for a clergyman to read to his cousins rather than a novel, sir?" She offered her well-worn copy to him.

"Your thoughtfulness does you credit, Miss Mary. However, while novels may have acquired a poor reputation due to a handful of scandalous volumes, I do not believe all such works are inherently immoral. Some of them are quite diverting. I find that my serious studies are far more rewarding when I am able to escape into innocent diversions from time to time. We can always discuss Fordyce's Sermons on another occasion when the amusement of the company does not depend upon us. What do you say? Will you help me make a selection from these volumes?"

Mary, somewhat taken aback by such an idea, quietly acquiesced and listened attentively as he told her a little about each of the books available for selection. After several moments of deliberation, she selected a new novel, _Sense and Sensibility_. She was admittedly curious at what the anonymous _lady_ writer could contribute. Mr. Collins read to the ladies with great animation, altering his voice for the various characters and gesturing exuberantly, much to the enjoyment of his audience. The first evening of his visit came to a close rather sooner than any of the parties might have wished, such was their enjoyment of one another's company.

 **A/N: I wanted to get to know Collins a little better before I scamper off into the wilderness to camp with hubby, two teenagers, and a toddler this weekend (prayers welcome, ha!). Let me know what you think. We'll get to see Darcy (and Wickham?) in the next chapter (next week-ish … I have some research to do, so it definitely won't be as quick as this one), so stick with me!**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: (8/16/16 – Updated to make minor revisions for word usage and the like.)**

 **I have really struggled with this chapter. I'm still finding my voice and getting to know these characters and how best to portray them to you, my readers. I'm still not sure I've got it quite right, but here it is nonetheless. I needed to give us a quick peek at Mr. Darcy before we move on to the following day and that fateful walk into Meryton. In related news, my muse got lost in the woods this past weekend, and I've still got mountain rescue out looking for her. Thankfully she was kind enough to give me an overall direction for where this story is going this along with some major events that need to take place to get us there before traipsing off on her own. Still lots of details to work out, but I feel more comfortable with the framework now. I have not responded to all of the reviews from Chapter Two, but I will happily do so along with any for Chapter Three over the next few days.**

 **As always, please review. I hear that reviews are much like breadcrumbs. Help me lead my muse back home. ;)**

 **CHAPTER THREE**

The occupants of Netherfield did not find themselves quite as delighted with their company as were those at Longbourn that evening.

"Will you not join us at cards, Mr. Darcy?" Miss Bingley asked, her eyes drifting to the vacant seat beside her and then returning to him. She smiled at him coquettishly, but the expression had the opposite effect of the one she intended.

"I thank you, no. I will leave that enjoyment to your brother as I have a letter to write to my sister." Mr. Darcy answered and rose from the settee to move across the room to the writing desk.

"How fortunate dear Georgiana is to have such a faithful correspondent in her elder brother," Miss Bingley observed, renewing the smile that had faltered at his refusal to join her at the table.

Feeling this observation warranted no response, and not wishing to encourage Miss Bingley's attentions, Mr. Darcy merely nodded his head and turned to arrange the articles on the desk so that he might begin writing. As conversation from the card table carried on behind him, he pinched the bridge of his nose as he attempted to arrange his thoughts. He shook his head imperceptibly as he considered how surprised even Georgiana must be at the frequency she was receiving letters from him while he was a guest at Netherfield. Although there was little occurring in Hertfordshire to require such regular correspondence, it afforded him a temporary reprieve from Miss Bingley's relentless attempts to garner favor with him. The delight it gave his sister, though a secondary consideration was further inducement to regularly seek refuge at the elegant little desk on the opposite side of the drawing room.

The thought of an alliance with Miss Bingley was nauseating. Mr. Darcy only tolerated her company for Bingley's sake. He had not always held such a low opinion of Miss Bingley, but lately the company of another lady had taught him to hope for something more than the simpering ladies of the _beau monde_ to whom he had become accustomed. This revelation had caused Miss Bingley to sink considerably in his estimation.

An outburst at the card table arrested Mr. Darcy's thoughts. He was thankful for the interruption. His thoughts were drifting uncomfortably close to that one subject on which he was endeavoring not to dwell. _She_ was out of his presence and he must deny her entry into his thoughts as well. It was bad enough that Miss Bingley could scarcely go an hour without renewing her criticisms of that lady or her family. She was sure to send him to Bedlam with such incessant reminders of that lady's pert opinions and fine eyes – those impossibly beautiful hazel eyes. He ran his fingers through his dark curls, sighing in frustration. She was entirely unsuitable. He must cease nurturing this heedless infatuation and put her out of his head.

Mr. Darcy took up the pen again, hoping he could quickly conclude his letter so he could make his excuses to the company and retire.

 _Netherfield Park, Hertfordshire_

 _18 November_

 _Georgiana,_

 _I was pleased to hear in your last the progress you have made at the pianoforte. I look forward with great anticipation to hearing you perform your new music. I hope that it will not be long before I can do so. Mr. Bingley has some business to conduct in town in just under a fortnight. I believe I shall end my visit when he departs and rejoin you in London. I am glad Richard has returned to London and has been able to keep you company in my absence. As for the stories he has shared about he and I as boys at Pemberley, I assure you that he has conveniently forgotten who it was that got us into so many scrapes. Pray advise him to be mindful in his retelling as I may be forced to retaliate with some tales of my own. It continues much the same here in Hertfordshire. The Misses Bennet have departed for their own home, so our company is smaller than when I last wrote. I already miss the lively conversation and verbal sparring of these few days past. This I do not find with the other ladies of our party, and Bingley loathes disagreement of any sort too much to engage in these little debates. This visit has convinced me of the truth of your observation that Miss Bingley's wit is a degree too sharp. I am embarrassed to admit that on more than one occasion I have fallen into the trap of partaking in her witty banter, making remarks that were most unbecoming to my character and station. You would have been most disappointed in your brother. Even if I were not convinced that she has set her cap at me, I believe that distancing myself is the most prudent course of action. It was wise of you to decline the invitation to join me on this visit as I believe you would have been greatly discomfited by her prolonged company. I will be happy to depart her company when I leave to join you later this month. Mr. Bingley is to host a ball at Netherfield on the 26_ _th_ _of November. I do not have much hope of enjoyment , but my attendance is necessary as I am a guest of the host. I promise not to "skulk" in a corner (I suppose I have Richard to thank for that observation of my behavior at such entertainments in town – though he may exaggerate as is his wont) and to dance more than two dances, however I might dislike it. I will set to memory all of the intricate details of the festive occasion if only so I may recount them for your pleasure when I next see you. Until then, I am your devoted brother,_

 _FD_

Mr. Darcy sanded the letter and shook off the excess. He carefully folded and addressed it before sealing it and dropping it onto the silver letter tray near the door. Turning to the other occupants of the room, he cleared his throat softly, "I beg you all will excuse me. I am going to retire for the evening."

"Are you all right, Darcy?" Bingley questioned curiously, glancing at the clock on the mantel, "It is quite early."

"I am well. I simply find myself rather tired this evening." Mr. Darcy answered. Hoping to make his escape without any further conversation, he bowed quickly and left the room before Miss Bingley could make any response.

Once in his guest chamber, Mr. Darcy was surprised to find his valet waiting for him. "You have anticipated me, Davis."

"Yes, sir. Would you care for a hot bath before you retire?" Davis inquired of his master.

"I would, Davis. Thank you." He lowered himself into the armchair by the fire and stared absently into the flames as he tugged as his cravat to loosen it.

Davis returned from ordering the water for his master's bath and offered him a glass of brandy, "Thank you, Davis." Mr. Darcy gratefully accepted the drink from his valet, downing the amber liquid and setting down the glass.

"Another, sir?" Davis asked, reaching for the empty glass.

"I had better not, Davis," the gentleman declined, fearful that too much drink would weaken his resolve to forget a certain lady. He had never been one to overindulge in any case.

Some little time later, Mr. Darcy undressed with the help of his valet and stepped into the copper tub. The hot water soothed his aching muscles, melting away the tension of an exhausting day. If only the weight that pressed upon him were so easily dismantled. Soon he would leave Hertfordshire and all its occupants behind. Soon Miss Elizabeth Bennet would be forgot and the danger he found himself in would pass. Soon.


	4. Chapter 4

CHAPTER FOUR

Although her nerves generally kept her abed well into the morning, Mrs. Bennet arose with uncommon haste the following morning. Mr. Collins having proved himself a worthy young man (and being the heir to Longbourn a point certainly in his favour), she was determined to have him for her son-in-law. She had much work to do if she were to secure him for one of her daughters before he returned to Hunsford.

"Hill! Hill! Where are you? I need you this instant!" she called out in a shrill voice for the Bennet's faithful housekeeper not a moment after she had rung the bell.

Mrs. Hill found her mistress fluttering about her chamber, moving much and accomplishing little, "How can I be of service, ma'am?" she inquired patiently.

"Oh, Hill! You must send someone to fetch some choice cuts of beef and lamb from the butcher. Dinner last evening was not at all to the standard the clergyman of Lady Catherine de Bourgh must expect, and I will not have him disappointed in how I keep my table during his stay with us."

Mrs. Hill nodded in acknowledgement, respectfully ignoring the fact that her mistress had instructed her and the cook not to waste their best fixings on 'that vile usurper' the day prior. Mrs. Bennet had no doubt decided upon further acquaintance that their gentleman visitor would do well for one of her girls. "Yes ma'am. Is there anything else?"

"Yes, I would have you fetch Nelly or another of the girls from the village immediately to help Sarah with the girls' toilet for the next few days. We must have them all looking their best. Send Sarah in to Lizzy first this morning so she cannot wander off before her hair is properly dressed."

Mrs. Hill nodded and pressed her lips together to suppress a wayward smile. Her mistress was as predictable as ever.

"Well then, that is all Hill. Do make haste." Mrs. Bennet sighed in exasperation and then began to dress for the day. She must hurry if she hoped to have a word with Mr. Collins before the rest of the family came downstairs to break their fast.

Mr. Collins was just returning from a brisk morning walk when Mrs. Bennet happened upon him in the front hall and asked him if he might join her in the drawing room for a few moments before they broke their fast together. He gladly agreed to her request.

"Mr. Collins, I must apologize for being so out of spirits yesterday. I am sure you understand. As a clergyman, particularly one privileged with the patronage of Lady Catherine de Bourgh, I am certain you will find it in you to forgive me for this momentary weakness. I truly am so happy to have this opportunity to further our acquaintance," she said, simpering and smiling as she added, "And I certainly would not have you hold my own folly against any of my girls. They truly are all that is lovely and charming, Mr. Collins."

"There is nothing to forgive, ma'am," he replied, a bemused expression etched on his features.

"You are too good, sir. You will make some young lady a very fine husband one day. Though Jane is very likely to be soon engaged, I daresay any of my younger daughters would like it above all things to be singled out by an amiable gentleman much like yourself. It is a pity we have so few eligible gentleman here in the neighborhood. Alas, our own dear rector is already married. Any of my girls would make a fine wife. Each of them have their own kind of beauty and accomplishment, but I am certain one or another of them would be quite well suited for a clergyman's wife. Wouldn't you agree, Mr. Collins?" Mrs. Bennet inquired, smiling sweetly at the young man whose mouth hung open for just a moment before he regained his composure following this rather forward speech.

"W-well, Mrs. Bennet, I have not had the honour of a long acquaintance with my cousins, but I am sure that they are very special young ladies, sure to make respectable marriages in good time."

It was here that Elizabeth happened down the stairs to see her two youngest sisters leaning against the drawing room door and giggling as they whispered back and forth.

"Kitty! Lydia! Have we not discussed your habit of eavesdropping?" she scolded her errant sisters.

At her rebuke, Kitty had the decency to look ashamed. Lydia merely rolled her eyes. "Oh la, Lizzy! You are too serious."

"And you not serious enough, I'm afraid."

"I am sorry, Lizzy." Kitty muttered quietly.

Lydia sighed at Kitty's apology, disappointed that she so easily accepted her own guilt. "As the conversation has to do with us, I do not see why we should not listen. Mama means to have one of us married to Mr. Collins. As I will never consider a man who does wear a red coat, I must know these things so that I might discourage his suit should be choose me. Kitty means to do the same. A man is nothing without a red coat."

Elizabeth could not be less surprised at the topic of conversation being pursued in the drawing room, though she felt a little sorry for Mr. Collins.

"Perhaps Kitty she be allowed to choose for herself," Lizzy replied, giving up hope of impressing her sister with the impropriety of her actions. "After all," she smirked, "John Lucas does not wear a red coat." Here Kitty's cheeks were overtaken with the most becoming shade of pink and she took to inspecting the floorboards.

Lydia rolled her eyes at this and dragged Kitty with her to the dining room, thus ending the conversation.

As the Bennets and their guest broke their fast, Mrs. Bennet put forward a scheme for her daughters to walk with their cousin into Meryton to visit their Aunt Philips, for it was an unseasonably warm day, and the walk would give them an opportunity to know each other better.

...

"Ah! Darcy!" Mr. Bingley greeted his friend as he entered the dining room at Netherfield, "I was worried you were unwell. Your retiring early last evening was unexpected and it is rare that I am able to beat you to the table."

"Good morning, Bingley. I am well, thank you. Your sisters and Mr. Hurst are not joining us?" Mr. Darcy replied, neglecting to make any explanation for his behavior. His sleep had been restless, and he did not wish to draw attention to his disquiet.

"They still prefer to keep town hours. I thought we might take a ride this morning before they join us for the day." Mr. Bingley suggested with undisguised eagerness.

His friend's zeal was not lost on Mr. Darcy, "Do you have a particular destination in mind, Bingley?"

"I thought we might call at Longbourn to inquire after Miss Bennet's health?" his response sounded more like a question to his friend.

"Do you require my company on your call, Bingley? I have a mind to stay here this morning." Mr. Darcy was unsure if he was equal to an encounter with Miss Elizabeth Bennet after a night so punctuated with dreams of a future with the lady that was simply out of the question. The prospect of watching his friend fawn over the elder Miss Bennet did nothing to promote his attendance either.

"I would enjoy your company on the ride, however, I am sure Caroline would be happy to keep you company if you wish to remain here."

This was too much. Of course he would go. Better to steel himself against the charms of a country miss, however fine her eyes and alluring her manner, than have to fend off the desperate attempts of Caroline Bingley to become the next mistress of Pemberley. "I will change and meet you at the stables in half an hour," he sighed.

"Very good!" Mr. Bingley returned, walking off quickly to ready himself.

...

Mrs. Bennet fussed over her daughters as they prepared to depart for their walk to Meryton. Her youngest daughters readily headed her advice to change into a more flattering gown or wear a bonnet with ribbon more apt to bring out the color of their eyes. They were to see the officers, after all. They must be looking their best. Mary protested against any such entreaties on account of not wanting to appear vain regardless of the audience, and Elizabeth tried to reason with her mother that they were _only_ walking into Meryton to see her Aunt Philips. Mrs. Bennet was sure she could not have done anything to deserve such a tiresome daughter. As she was already on the verge of an understanding so far as her mother was concerned, Jane managed to escape her perusal relatively unscathed.

As the Bennet girls and their cousin parted ways with Mrs. Bennet in the garden, she made several pointed remarks to Mr. Collins about enjoying the scenery _and the company_ while giving him conspiratorial winks and nods. Mr. Collins blushed furiously and said little in response. Elizabeth observed the exchange, smiling and rolling her eyes at her mother's exuberant matchmaking efforts.

As the young people ambled down the road toward Meryton, Elizabeth fell into step beside Mr. Collins. "I feel it only fair to warn you, Mr. Collins," she began, "My mother seems to be of Lady Catherine's opinion regarding the urgency with which you should select a wife."

Mr. Collins was somewhat taken aback at this opening given his conversation with Mrs. Bennet earlier that morning, but seeing the mischief dancing in Elizabeth's eyes and the smile gracing her lips, he smiled broadly at her in return, "I believe you are correct, Cousin Elizabeth," he replied, "She hinted as much this morning before we broke our fast."

Elizabeth laughed, her eyes bright with mirth, "Hinted? I doubt it was as subtle as that. Did she recommend any one of us in particular as the next mistress of Longbourn?"

"She was kind enough to leave that decision up to me," he chuckled.

"How generous!" Elizabeth exclaimed, the amusing conversation giving her step an added lightness. Her playfulness removed any awkwardness Mr. Collins might have felt at the unusual topic of conversation.

They walked in contented silence for several moments before Elizabeth chosen another direction for their conversation. "Mr. Collins, how is it that you were so fortunate to secure the patronage of Lady Catherine de Bourgh?"

"Would you believe me if I told you I simpered and smirked and flattered my way into the living?"

"I believe that is the case for some, but I doubt it of you," Elizabeth replied, "Our acquaintance has been short, but I do not believe you a sycophant."

He touched his hat and nodded to her in acknowledgement of the compliment, "I actually have my uncle to thank for the recommendation."

"Your uncle?"

"Yes, on my mother's side. You would not have heard much about that side of the family."

"Of course," she nodded.

"My uncle, Sir Arthur Ramsbury, attended Cambridge with Lady Catherine's late husband, Sir Lewis de Bourgh. They were not especially close, but they maintained enough of a connection for my uncle to be invited to annual shooting parties at Rosings. When my uncle heard of the living at Hunsford falling vacant not long before my ordination, he approached Lady Catherine about the living on my behalf. Upon closer acquaintance with Her Ladyship, I believe that the fact that my uncle's recommendation saved her the inconvenience of having to seek out another parson was much in my favour."

"She does not brook inconvenience well then."

"Oh, no!" Mr. Collins chuckled.

"Ah. Well then, what about your uncle? Are you close? Do you have any cousins on that side of the family?"

"My uncle is a widower with two adult sons. I am not particularly close to my cousins, though we get on well enough on the rare occasions we are in company with one another. My uncle's health has been steadily declining over the past couple years. He divides most of his time between Bath and London. His eldest son has taken on the management of the family estate in his father's absence."

"Do you see him often?"

"I try to see him when he is in London. He and my two cousins are the only living relations I have aside from your family. I admit that reestablishing our connection is rooted at least in part in my own selfish desire to be surrounded by family and the comfort and affection such relations afford. "

"I confess I am surprised, sir."

"How so?" Mr. Collins looks at her quizzically.

"I have been so used to think of you as a cruel villain destined to come wrench Longbourn out from under us, laughing maniacally as we lie wailing in the hedgerows with little more than the clothes on our backs. To find that you have a heart and _feelings_ tears the plot of our own little tale of affliction completely asunder." She furrowed her brow and pressed her lips together to hide the smile that threatened to intrude on her feigned seriousness.

"Indeed? It seems Mrs. Radcliffe could well use me as inspiration for her next novel."

"What do you think of novel reading now, Mr. Collins?"

"I am reconsidering my opinion on the matter. It would not do to have my evil plots laid bare in three volumes complete. I would be rendered utterly predictable, and the element of surprise is essential for any respectable villain, you know."

At this, Elizabeth could no longer maintain her serious demeanor. She laughed heartily, her eyes bright with amusement, "I assure you, Mr. Collins, Mrs. Radcliffe has nothing on my mother when it comes to spinning tales of horror."

"Well, I hope that you – and your mother – now know that I have a genuine concern for your family. I would not wish any of you to lose sleep or make hasty decisions to marry to escape any perceived threat I might pose to your future security."

"Such as marrying the heir to Longbourn?" She said, her eyebrow arching teasingly, "I believe we are back where we started, cousin."

The two cousins continued in this lighthearted manner until they reached Meryton.

As soon as the party reached Meryton, Kitty and Lydia rushed off to the milliner's to ascertain whether any new bonnets had been added to the shop keeper's inventory since their last visit.

"I beg your pardon, Mr. Collins," Jane said, looking back over her shoulder as she began walking after her two youngest sisters, "but I believe I should follow to keep an eye on my sisters." She glanced knowingly at Elizabeth, who merely chuckled at her elder sister's efforts to ensure her sisters maintained some semblance of decorum.

"Would you care to accompany us to Sedgewick's, cousin?" Elizabeth gestured toward a modest bookshop across the street.

"Please do, Mr. Collins," Mary echoed her sister's invitation, "I would like to make a few selections, and your advice would be most welcome."

"Of course," he smiled, offering an arm to each of his fair cousins.

When the cousins entered the dimly lit shop, Elizabeth excused herself to look after a particular book. Mary perused the shelves silently with her cousin trailing behind her, occasionally stopping to examine a volume as they meandered past a number of the cramped shelves.

Finally, with an exasperated sigh, Mary addressed her cousin, "I really have no idea what I am about, Mr. Collins. I am seldom without a book, but my selections are so little varied and usually confined to religious or instructive texts. You said last evening that novels – some of them – might provide an innocent diversion from more serious studies. But _which_ novels are the right ones, and are there other subjects I ought to consider in an attempt to broaden the scope of my reading?" As she finished, she stared at the floor and tugged distractedly at the hem of one of her gloves.

"I would be happy to help you, cousin. I have known you such a short time, however, that I am not at all sure of your tastes. Are there any subjects in particular that might interest you?" Mr. Collins inquired.

"I really could not say. Lizzy reads such a variety of books. She's read many of the classics, poetry, and philosophy. She reads the papers and debates with Papa over things I cannot begin to understand. Perhaps I have been remiss in excluding these subjects from my reading? But where should I begin?"

Mr. Collins' brow creased as he thought over his cousin's comments. After careful consideration, he responded, "I would not have you overwhelm yourself by trying to consume everything at once, Cousin Mary. In any case, you will find that some subjects require little more than a cursory knowledge which most young ladies acquire in the school room. Perhaps you will allow me to suggest a selection of the classics appropriate for young ladies? Shakespeare might also suit if you are so inclined."

Mary nodded her acceptance and followed her cousin to find the suggested volumes. Mary was inclined to choose one of Shakespeare's tragedies, however, her cousin felt it might be beneficial for her to start with one of his comedies to lighten the mood of her otherwise rather serious studies.

Mary and Lizzy each made their purchases and the trio rejoined the remaining Bennet sisters outside the milliner's shop. The party were not long reunited when Lydia, happening to glance down the street, raised her hand to wave at a familiar officer she spied heading in their direction, "Denny!"

"Lydia!" Jane scolded in muted tones, embarrassed that her youngest sister referred to the officer in such a familiar manner. Nonplussed, Lydia continued waving the gentleman and a stranger who accompanied him over to join them.

The stranger created some speculation amongst the youngest Bennets, for he was mightily good-looking. When the two young men joined the party, Captain Denny wasted no time in making introductions. His friend, Mr. Wickham, had returned with him from town and had accepted a commission in the corps currently residing in Meryton. Lydia was particularly pleased at this news as the otherwise handsome, fine figured gentleman lacked only regimentals to render him entirely charming. His address was pleasing, and his happy manners promoted lively conversation amongst all of those present.

As the party from Longbourn conversed with the officers and their new acquaintance, two gentlemen were slowly advancing through Meryton on horseback. The gentlemen were engaged in conversation and did not notice the party until they were almost alongside them. Suddenly, recognition dawned on one of them, "Miss Bennet! How fortunate that we should happen upon you. We were just on our way to Longbourn to inquire after your health."

Mr. Collins glanced up at the unknown gentleman's greeting. He noticed that the gentleman's companion started at seeing the party and he could detect just the hint of a flush on the man's cheeks. Mr. Collins followed the stranger's wide-eyed gaze and found that it rested on Elizabeth. The corners of his mouth turned up and he shook his head ever so slightly, trying to hide his amusement. _So my cousin has an admirer._

Just as quickly as the expression had appeared, however, it was gone. The newcomer's jaw tightened and the once faint pink in his cheeks became a startling crimson as his lips curled into a sneer. Mr. Collins saw that the gentleman's gaze had shifted from Elizabeth to Mr. Wickham, who blanched and looked upon the gentlemen with startled recognition. Mr. Collins was not the only one to notice. Although she had missed the gentleman's initial reaction, Elizabeth was now studying his face intently, looking back and forth between him and Mr. Wickham.

Jane interrupted Mr. Collins' musing to make introductions. The good-humored young man who was positively beaming at his eldest cousin was introduced as Mr. Bingley. The other gentleman, a Mr. Darcy, stiffly nodded in acknowledgement and muttered something to his friend before turning his horse to return the way the two gentlemen had come. Mr. Bingley took his leave with obvious regret and followed his friend.

After the two gentlemen from Netherfield departed, Mr. Wickham cleared his throat and smiled, though the expression did not reach his eyes, "Might Denny and I accompany you all as far as your Uncle's home?"

Upon arriving at the door to Mr. Philips's house, Lydia pressed the gentlemen to come inside with the rest of the party. Despite the entreaty being seconded by her Aunt Philips, who had been watching the party come down the street from the parlour window, Captain Denny and Mr. Wickham politely declined. They made their bows and bid the party farewell.

Mr. Collins was soon thereafter introduced to Mrs. Philips. Lydia and Kitty listened with rapt attention as their aunt caught them up on the village gossip. In turn, they shared with her about their new acquaintance, Mr. Wickham. Their Aunt Philips assured them that she would have their uncle call on the gentlemen and invite him to their supper party the next evening. The visit was happily concluded at the appropriate time, and the young people made their way back to Longbourn.

...

Mr. Darcy dismounted and handed the reigns to Bingley's groom, "Bingley, I will go to my rooms to refresh myself and join you and your sisters for tea later this afternoon." He rushed off toward the house before Bingley could make any response. _What is Wickham doing here of all places?_ He desperately needed to be alone to consider this new development and what it would mean for his continued residence in Hertfordshire. The only good that could be said of the morning's events was that for the first time in days his mind was no longer fixed on Miss Elizabeth Bennet.

 **A/N: I hope you all enjoyed this longer chapter. Based on the efforts for this one, I would guess that my initial estimate of posting once every two weeks is probably fairly accurate. That will give me time to work through the details and research as needed (and allow my muse some flex time). Hit that Review button and let me know what you think!**

 **I have also made a few updates to the previous three chapters based on feedback on word usage and other minor details. I truly do appreciate your feedback – particularly when it is KINDLY given. I'm a mom, wife, friend, and daughter – as are many of you. As much as I LOVE writing, it is secondary to a slew of other things and does not always get my full attention. I make mistakes. I appreciate your graciousness in pointing them out without judgement.**

 **Until next time, stay cool (I'll be in the kiddie pool if you need me).**


	5. Chapter 5

CHAPTER FIVE

Mr. Roberts had served as steward of Longbourn for more than ten years. He was a clever, active sort of fellow who took great pride in his work. It was therefore a source of great vexation that he found early on in his service that the master of Longbourn had little interest in any of the improvements that his steward advised him to consider, particularly if he found the expense or exertion an inconvenience to himself. That Mr. Bennet was himself an intelligent man only served to increase his poor steward's vexation. Mr. Roberts could not conceive of why a clever, well-read gentleman would appear so indifferent to the duties of his estate. It was not his place, however, to chastise Mr. Bennet. He did what he could with what funds were allotted to maintain the estate and over time learned to only trouble Mr. Bennet in the event that some sort of maintenance on the estate could no longer be avoided, which suited his master just fine.

It was therefore a somewhat awkward affair when the morning of the Philips' Supper party, Mr. Collins happened to come to see Mr. Bennet just as he was having one of these rare conversations with Mr. Roberts over the matter of a number of fields that were oft flooded and required improvements to address the drainage issues.

"Mr. Bennet, if we had improved the drainage on this and the two other fields we discussed last spring, the loss of crops might have been prevented altogether. I do not see now how Cartwright or Smith will meet their rents without significant hardship to their families. Cartwright's wife has just given birth to their fourth child, and their needs are more than their meager harvest can support. The loss has been devastating for them. As it is, the standing water in the one field is spreading onto Mr. Goulding's property. His steward has been by to insist we address the issue twice this month already. The improvements will be that much more difficult now that the field is already flooded. We must address this soon, sir." Mr. Roberts said stiffly, his jaw clenched as he struggled to show restraint.

"Yes, yes, do what you must, Roberts." Mr. Bennet waved him off as the pair heard a knock at the door to Mr. Bennet's study, "Enter!"

Mr. Collin's greeting was cut short as he noticed the rather livid Mr. Roberts addressing Mr. Bennet, "Sir, will you not come out and assess the damage yourself?"

"I see no call for that Roberts. I am sure you will handle it quite well yourself. No need for my interference. Just mind you do not ruin me in the process. Mrs. Bennet would be beside herself if I had to reduce her pin money," Mr. Bennet replied sardonically and then abruptly turned to Mr. Collins, "Ah! Mr. Collins, do come in. Mr. Roberts here was just leaving."

With such a dismissal, Mr. Roberts stalked out and could scarcely prevent himself from slamming the study door behind him. He narrowly avoided colliding with the Bennets' housekeeper in the hallway.

"Take care, Henry," she cautioned him, "do not let him ruffle you so. It's unbecoming, no matter the provocation."

"Good day, Mrs. Hill," he smiled at her half-heartedly, "You are right, as usual."

"Quite so," she smiled at him affectionately.

"Is Miss Elizabeth out for her usual walk this morning? The Cartwrights are hard up at present and I know she would wish to be made aware."

"She has not come down yet. I will mention it to her before she goes out so that she might look in on them. I'm sure cook can make up a basket for her to take over on short notice."

"Thank you, ma'am. You know I would not trouble her with it if it were not for… " he glanced back toward the study, clenching his fists.

"Of course not," Mrs. Hill patted his arm fondly. He sighed and took his leave.

 **…..**

"What can I do for you this morning, Mr. Collins?" Mr. Bennet asked his cousin as he gestured toward a chair opposite his desk.

That Mr. Bennet could appear so nonplussed after what appeared to be a rather heated – on one side at least – exchange seemed a little odd to Mr. Collins, but he did not linger on these thoughts. As he took the proffered seat, he began, "Sir, I came to inquire if you might consider allowing me to accompany you on any estate business during my stay at Longbourn. I do well enough at Hunsford, but I am not fool enough to compare managing a small household and garden to running an estate and managing tenants. My own father, as you know, had no estate of his own, so while I have read a number of volumes on the subject, I have no first-hand experience. I would not wish my inexperience to result in hardships for any of those dependent on me when I do inherit. I would be honored if you would be willing to share with me your own knowledge and experience."

Mr. Bennet grimaced slightly at this request, though Mr. Collins did not notice. The master of Longbourn could hardly tell his heir that he himself had little hand in the management of his own estate. Instead he chortled softly, masking his discomfiture, "You are rather direct, young man. I own I am thankful the lady of the house is not nearby to have overheard such a request."

Mr. Collins returned his cousin's smile, "I assure you it out of reverence and not avarice that I make this request."

"I will consider it," was all the reply Mr. Collins was to receive before Mr. Bennet took up the book he had been reading prior to his steward's earlier interruption. Mr. Collins bowed and exited the study to join the ladies in breaking their fast.

Following Mr. Collins' departure, Mr. Bennet perused the same paragraph three times before setting his book down with a long sigh. A dull ache plagued him. Was it guilt? Pride? It was damned inconvenient, whatever it was. It was strange indeed that in less than three days, Mr. Collins was with seemingly little effort leading him to consider what ten years had been insufficient for Mr. Roberts to succeed in. He rang the bell.

"Hill," he spoke over the top of his spectacles when the housekeeper peeked into his study, "Find Roberts and send him back in, if you will."

"Yes, sir."

 **…..**

The young people from Longbourn arrived at the Philips' home in good spirits that evening. More than one lady in the party was pleased to find that the charming Mr. Wickham accepted the invitation to join them for supper and cards.

The officers seemed no less pleased to be joined by the Bennet ladies. A boyish grin stole across Mr. Denny's features when he caught Lydia's eye. He gestured for her to join him, Wickham and another officer who were engaged in a lively discussion on the other side of the drawing room. She all but bounded across the room with Kitty trailing after her.

Mr. Collins entertained Mrs. Philips and his two eldest cousins until the card tables were arranged. He graciously accepted Mrs. Philips' invitation to join her in a game of whist. Jane likewise joined her uncle at another of the tables.

Mr. Wickham watched as Mr. Collins vacated the seat next to Elizabeth. She must have sensed him watching her as she looked up just then, meeting his gaze. Her beautiful eyes, perfectly framed in dark lashes, came alive as her sweet lips spread into a welcoming smile. Needing little encouragement to further his acquaintance with the handsome lady, Wickham soon found himself seated in the chair the lady's cousin had so recently occupied.

"How are you liking Meryton so far, Mr. Wickham?" Elizabeth inquired as Mr. Wickham made himself comfortable.

"I find I like it very well. The company this evening is particularly charming," he responded with a warm smile.

"You are certainly a welcome addition to our merry party." Elizabeth searched for something further to say that would direct their conversation toward the one topic that had so piqued her curiosity the day prior – the history of Mr. Wickham's acquaintance with Mr. Darcy – but she could think of no means to broach the topic without appearing too forward. After a momentary lapse in the conversation, however, Mr. Wickham obliged her by entering upon the subject without prompting.

"Might I ask how long Mr. Darcy has been in the neighborhood, Miss Bennet?"

"He has been in the neighborhood about a month. He is staying with his friend Mr. Bingley who is leasing Netherfield Park at present," she paused before adding, "Do you know the gentleman, sir?"

"We grew up together. My father was his father's steward. We played together as boys," Wickham replied, garnering a quizzical look from Elizabeth. "Yes, you may very well be surprised based on the cold manner of our greeting yesterday."

"I confess I am surprised."

"Are you very well acquainted with Mr. Darcy, Miss Bennet?" he inquired.

"As much as I ever wish to be. I recently spent four rather unpleasant days with him at Netherfield while nursing my sister Jane back to health. I find him very disagreeable."

"Truly? Even with his thousands and a grand estate beside?" Wickham said with a faint hint of bitterness.

"I cannot so easily overlook his offences, and I am not the only one. He is not at all well liked in Hertfordshire. Oh, to be sure, rumours of his wealth and situation in Derbyshire sparked a great deal of interest when he first came to the neighborhood, but his behaviour has since fixed him as one of the most arrogant persons ever to step foot in our village."

"It is unfortunate for him that he has made such a poor impression here, but then I imagine he feels there is no one he need impress, though I assure you he is well able to please where he likes."

"He has certainly made it clear that he has found nothing to please him in Hertfordshire."

"Do you know – does he plan to stay long at Netherfield?"

"I do not know, but I hope your plans to stay will not be affected by his presence in the neighborhood."

"Oh, certainly not. It is not for me to be driven away by Mr. Darcy. If he wishes to avoid me, he may go. It pains me to meet him as I have suffered greatly at his hand, but the memory of his father – who was as great a man as ever there was, Miss Bennet – prevents me from calling out the son publically for his ill-usage." Mr. Wickham answered.

Here some of the other officers joined them, prompting a diversion to more pleasant topics. Elizabeth attended Mr. Wickham's conversation with keen interest, impressed that the gentleman could remain so affable in the face of such misfortunes as he had hinted at previously. She found herself sorely wanting to know what manner of ill-usage Mr. Darcy had suffered Mr. Wickham to endure. She could scarcely ask, but she hoped that given an opportunity he might expound further on the subject.

It was rare that the youngest Bennet girls proved useful to their elder sisters (and even in those cases, it was generally not intentional), but as Lydia and Kitty very soon called over the very officers who had joined in conversing with Elizabeth and Mr. Wickham, the pair once again found themselves able to talk as they pleased.

"You seem to be fortunate in your fellow officers," Elizabeth observed.

"I cannot disagree with you there. Though I have only known Denny a short while through a common acquaintance in London, his hearty recommendation of the profession and the prospect of good society convinced me to throw my lot in with the -shire. Active employment was an added inducement. I cannot bear to be idle. The military is not the profession for which I was intended – I was meant to take orders in the church. However, the living I was promised was refused to me, and I must make my way in the world somehow."

"Refused to you? How can that be?"

"Old Mr. Darcy was my godfather. He was exceedingly generous in life, and upon his death, he bequeathed me a valuable living as soon as it was to become available. However, at the time the living fell vacant; his son ignored his father's wishes and offered it to another."

"I cannot believe it!" Elizabeth struggled to keep her voice low despite her shock. "How could Mr. Darcy so blatantly disregard his father's wishes? Have you no possibility of legal redress?"

"Unfortunately, the bequest was of such an informal nature that I was entirely at Darcy's mercy to honour it. It is all the more difficult to accept as I cannot fathom having done anything to deserve such spite. I can only imagine that his dislike of me is founded in jealously."

"Jealousy?"

"His father was rather fond of me, Miss Bennet. His attachment to me, a mere steward's son, never sat well with Darcy. You have seen his pride and conceit."

"I have, but I would have thought his pride would have led him to honour his father's wishes regardless of his own sentiments. I had not thought him capable of this!" Elizabeth replied incredulously. Upon further contemplation, she added, "I do, however, recall him mentioning his resentful temper once during my stay at Netherfield. Heavy failing, indeed!"

The pair settled into silence for a few moments until recollection of the conversation regarding her cousin's appointment roused Elizabeth from her reflections. "Mr. Wickham," she began, "Is there not some other way you might obtain a living so that you might still pursue a future in the church? Do you have no other connections that might provide you with a recommendation?"

Mr. Wickham hesitated before responding, "With a man as powerful as Darcy set against me, I am afraid I am quite cut off. His wealth and connections make him a force to be reckoned with. There are few who would dare oppose him merely to forward the interests of a poor steward's son. I am afraid there is no hope for me on that score."

His whist party having now broken up, Mr. Collins sought out his cousin Elizabeth. "How did you fare, Mr. Collins?" she inquired upon his joining her and Mr. Wickham.

"Quite well, I daresay, though I might have fared better had I not been quizzed so closely on Lady Catherine de Bourgh's preferences in all manner of things. Your aunt is close questioner." Mr. Collins chuckled good-naturedly.

"Lady Catherine de Bourgh, did you say?" Mr. Wickham's interest was piqued.

"She is my patroness, sir. I have been granted the living at Hunsford on her estate."

"What a strange coincidence," Mr. Wickham turned to Elizabeth, "She is the aunt of the very gentleman of whom we have been speaking."

Mr. Collins looked between his cousin and Mr. Wickham, noting a certain something in Mr. Wickham's look that he did not particularly like. Brushing it aside, however, he asked, "What gentleman might that be?"

"Mr. Darcy?" Elizabeth said in a questioning tone, prompting a nod from Mr. Wickham.

"The name is familiar," Mr. Collins replied. "The introduction being somewhat cut short yesterday, I had not taken time to consider where I had heard the name before. Her ladyship does speak of her nephew fondly."

"I should imagine she does," Mr. Wickham laughed, "her daughter being his intended."

Mr. Collins could only offer a bemused smile at this remark. His patroness had certainly alluded to the understanding between her daughter and Mr. Darcy, but he thought the decided absence of Miss de Bourgh's suitor a curious circumstance. He had learned not to give credence to all of Her Ladyship's assertions. He kept these musings to himself, however.

Elizabeth felt some explanation necessary and added, "Mr. Wickham is the son of Mr. Darcy's former steward. He grew up with the family." Mr. Collins merely nodded in acknowledgement of this information.

The remaining card tables soon broke up and supper was announced. Feeling it prudent to share Mr. Wickham's company with the other assembled ladies, Elizabeth engaged in conversation with other members of the party. The company dispersed as the evening drew to a close, and the party from Longbourn returned home, each with their own thoughts to keep them company.

 **A/N: I am thoroughly enjoying reading your reviews, so please keep them coming. I did not get to respond to individual reviews for the last chapter, but I do have some things to share that capture some of the sentiments addressed thus far.**

 **1) In order to do justice to the character development and events I have planned to date, I believe this story will have anywhere from 70 to 85 chapters. Once I have a few more chapters completed to lay the groundwork, I hope to be able to start posting more frequently (I'm already itching to write several chapter that take place a little further into the story and have extensive notes waiting to be used to bring those events and conversations to life). I am hoping to have this completed inside of a year (so by next summer).**

 **2) Unfortunately, not everyone will be happy with the outcomes. I love reading your feedback and ideas and have incorporated several into my plans for this story (and still have room to continue to do so to some extent – so keep them coming!), however, I need to be true to the ultimate story I want to tell. While this will be a Darcy and Elizabeth HEA (and several other characters will get their own HEAs), I want there to be some level of realism to the story. Not all of the Bennet sisters will marry or have beaus by the closing chapter, not everyone will recognize and act to remedy their character flaws, etc. I'm not going to be any more specific than that as I want you all to be surprised.**

 **3) Several of you are on Team Collins thus far. Mr. Darcy hasn't had his "Hunsford Moment" yet, so that is unsurprising. I have plans to change that. Keep a look out for hints as to what will ultimately shift the balance in Mr. Darcy's favor (you know, aside from his ten thousand a year).**

 **4) I know, I know. When will we get to see Elizabeth and Darcy together?! It's looking like we'll finally see them together in chapters seven and eight, so hang tight!**

 **Next chapter will provide us with further development of Mr. Bennet's relationship with Mr. Collins, some Bingley-Bennet interaction, and little insight into where Elizabeth's thoughts lie at this juncture. Until then, have a lovely week (and for my friends stateside, enjoy your Labor Day holiday if you are so fortunate as to be off today – and Moms, try to enjoy those little rascals even though you don't really get a day off)!**


	6. Chapter 6

**CHAPTER SIX**

By the time Jane Bennet stirred from her slumber the following morning, rustling the bedclothes as she stretched lazily and rubbed the sleep from her eyes, Elizabeth had been awake for some time pondering the events of the preceding two days.

"No walk this morning, Lizzy?" Jane mumbled, surprised at the telltale warmth beside her that indicated her sister was still abed. When she received no response, she rolled over to study Elizabeth, who was gazing unseeing at the ceiling, her fingers absently twirling her dark curls.

"Lizzy?" Jane repeated.

"Hmm?" Elizabeth replied distractedly.

"What are you thinking of, dearest?"

"I'm trying to make out his character."

"Who, Lizzy?"

"Mr. Darcy."

"Mr. Darcy?" Jane repeated in a tone of amusement, in response to which Elizabeth shifted her gaze from the ceiling and settled it on her sister, her brow furrowed. "Oh, do not look at me like that, Lizzy. I am just surprised to find you contemplating a man you seem bound to dislike."

"I would not spare him a thought, Jane, if it were not for something Mr. Wickham told me at Aunt Philips' last evening."

Jane pulled herself up and arranged her pillows so she could comfortably attend to their conversation, "You spoke with him for quite a while last night, Lizzy. What did he have to say?"

Rolling over to face Jane, Elizabeth took a deep breath and recounted Mr. Wickham's history with Mr. Darcy to Jane. When she had finished, she watched her sister, waiting for a response. "Perhaps there has been a grave misunderstanding, Lizzy," Jane suggested, a frown ever so briefly replacing her usually serene countenance.

"I should have guessed you would say as much," Elizabeth sighed.

"But Lizzy, you seem absolutely determined to think ill of Mr. Darcy. You have not even heard his side of the story."

"I have every reason to think ill of him, Jane. Besides, I cannot ask him about it outright. It would not be proper. If I am barely tolerable now, imagine what such a mark of impropriety would do to lessen me in his esteem."

"One errant remark is hardly _every_ reason, Lizzy."

"But what true gentleman would make such a remark, Jane? In an assembly room filled with people of all places!"

"I'll grant you that, Lizzy, but we do not know his state of mind that evening. I _am_ sorry that his remark was injurious to _you_ , but I cannot think that he meant it. We are all prone to ill humours at times."

"Everyone except you, Jane." Elizabeth teased her sister. Jane smiled and shook her head at her sister.

"I only mean to caution you not to judge every word and deed through the lenses of a solitary lapse of judgement on his part."

"But it was not merely that one instance that determined my dislike, Jane. He was equally disagreeable at the Lucas's and his disdain was almost palpable during our stay at Netherfield. You should have seen the way he looked at me when I was announced with my skirts so thoroughly soiled with mud. I would have been offended by his blatant perusal of my person had I not been trying so hard to stifle my laughter at having so offended his gentlemanly sensibilities." She laughed, recalling the startled expression that overtook that gentleman's usually impassive visage that morning at Netherfield.

"You find humour in the strangest things, Lizzy." Jane could but roll her eyes.

"It keeps me sane." She grinned.

"Some would argue that point."

"Jane Bennet! Are you teasing me?" Elizabeth gasped, dropping her jaw and holding her hand up to her heart in mock astonishment.

After several moments of laughter and playful jibing, the sisters grew quiet and Jane returned to the earlier subject, "This business is most perplexing, Lizzy. Surely Mr. Bingley could not be so deceived in the character of one of his closest friends? There must be more to the circumstances that what we know at present."

"I can much more easily believe Mr. Bingley's being imposed on than that Mr. Wickham should invent such a history of himself as he gave me last night," came Elizabeth's curt response.

"Do you like Mr. Wickham then?" Jane inquired, not wishing to pursue the argument any further.

"I find him agreeable. He has such an expression of goodness in his countenance that he left me in no doubt of his sincerity." At Jane's raised eyebrow, Elizabeth added, "As for _liking_ him in the manner you suggest, I could not say. I have only just met the gentleman. Do not mistake my compassion for him for admiration."

"And our cousin, Mr. Collins?"

"He shows promise," Elizabeth smirked.

"Careful, Lizzy. You know Mama will have Reverend Stevenson reading the banns before you or Mr. Collins know what you are about if she catches you making such careless remarks."

"Very well," Elizabeth gave an exaggerated sigh and climbed out of their shared bed to begin her morning toilet.

* * *

Jane and Elizabeth arrived in the dining room as Mr. Collins was preparing to quit it. The usual greetings having been exchanged, Jane inquired as to where her cousin was off to that morning.

"Your father has been kind enough to invite me to join him as he surveys his estate and looks after some improvements he has recently undertaken," Mr. Collins replied.

The sisters exchanged a curious look before sending off their cousin with well wishes for productive morning. Neither of the girls could recall the last time their father had ridden out himself to survey the estate. Mr. Roberts had taken on that burden entirely not long after he came into service at Longbourn. Elizabeth had ridden out with him as he inspected the Longbourn estate a number of times when she was younger, but her mother had put an end to such _unladylike_ behavior in recent years, insisting that no respectable gentleman wanted a wife better able to manage his estate than he was.

Mr. Collins had been surprised that morning when Mr. Bennet interrupted his solitary reading in the parlour and suggested he hasten his preparation for departure if he was to be able to join the master of Longbourn and his steward on their _quarterly_ survey of the estate. His abrupt dismissal from Mr. Bennet's study the day before had left him with little hope of having his request granted. He did not hold his cousin in contempt over the matter as the renewal of the familial relationship was still entirely new. It was after all a rather bold request, all things considered. Having thus resigned himself to disappointment in that quarter, he was both shocked and rather enthusiastic upon being extended the invitation that morning.

For Mr. Roberts' part, he thought describing the outing as the master's _quarterly_ survey of the estate was doing it much too brown. He supposed it depended on how one defined quarterly. It could perhaps be creditably passed off as quarterly if one were speaking in terms of _centuries_. For all his skepticism, the steward was determined to remember his place and not betray his master's heretofore indifference to all matters of the estate. Perhaps the impetus the young clergyman's request had sparked would be fanned into a flame of duty well-honoured. The steward of Longbourn would do what he could to encourage it.

* * *

While the gentlemen of Longbourn were out on their survey of the estate, the ladies were pleased to receive a call from Mr. Bingley and his sisters. The raptures into which Mrs. Bennet was thrown upon learning that the purpose of the visit was to extend a personal invitation to a ball to be given at Netherfield can scarce be imagined.

"Oh, Mr. Bingley!" Mrs. Bennet exclaimed, clasping her hands together, "How kind and generous you are! But I knew how it would be. You are of course a man of your word – as any gentleman ought to be. You promised us a ball, and a ball we shall have! You do us such an honour, sir, calling on us to issue a personal invitation." Here she nodded significantly in Jane's direction.

"As we were just down the road calling on Sir William Lucas and his family to issue an invitation to _them_ , we thought it only proper to call in at Longbourn as well, Mrs. Bennet. My brother is so attentive to _all_ his neighbors," Miss Bingley interjected.

If Miss Bingley hoped her disclosure that the Bennets had not been singled out in receiving a personal invitation would serve to stifle the joyous effusions of her hostess, she was to be sorely disappointed. It seemed that Elizabeth was the only one of the Bennet ladies to register the intended slight.

The second eldest Bennet daughter was not, however, insensible to the impropriety of allowing her mother to long continue. As such, she soon inquired of their guests, "You have been to Lucas Lodge this morning? I hope they are all well."

"Yes, they seemed to be quite well this morning. I had a matter to discuss with Sir William – a promising spaniel he will bring along when we next go shooting. Nothing you ladies would find at all interesting, I'm sure," Mr. Bingley smiled gaily, his eyes leaving Jane only long enough to glance at Elizabeth as he answered her, "I asked my sisters to accompany me so that we might call here at Longbourn to issue our invitation afterward. Caroline kindly reminded me to extend the invitation to the Lucases while we were visiting them this morning. It had not occurred to me to do so, but as we were there already it seemed the proper thing to do. I do _try_ to be attentive, but she is always reminding me of some little thing or another."

Elizabeth coughed quietly to stifle a chuckle. The expression on Miss Bingley's face as her brother betrayed the fact that it was in fact _his_ intention to single out the Bennets – _one_ of them at least – might have mortally wounded the gentleman, could a mere look do such a thing. Miss Bingley quickly schooled her features, however, so only Elizabeth and Mrs. Hurst (whose own expression was only slightly less murderous) were aware of it having been anything but coolly polite. Elizabeth was certain she could not countenance such prospective sisters-in-law and felt it fortunate that her sister had such a forgiving nature.

"You will invite the officers, won't you, Mr. Bingley?" Lydia insisted, interrupting Elizabeth's musing.

"Lydia!" Elizabeth hissed, mortified that her youngest sister would presume to tell Mr. Bingley who he ought to invite to his own ball.

Her reprimand was cut short, however, by the gentleman himself, "I certainly shall, Miss Lydia. I would not think of disappointing you on that head – particularly as I have frequently enjoyed their company myself." Mr. Bingley's smile was genuine.

Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst here exchanged a look and rose to take their leave. Mr. Bingley was forced to follow suit. Pleasantries were exchanged, and the visitors departed with Mrs. Bennet gleefully waving them down the lane. Once their visitors' carriage was out of sight, she hurried inside to consider what her girls might have to wear that would be deemed appropriate for a ball hosted at Netherfield Park.

Jane and Mr. Bingley had scarce exchanged a word during the whole course of the visit, yet so much was said with looks and smiles that neither of them came away with anything but a cheerful remembrance of a morning well spent.

* * *

The tour of the estate now complete, Mr. Roberts trailed behind his master and his guest as they rode back to the house. It had been an interesting morning. If Mr. Collins noticed the frequency with which Mr. Bennet deferred questions to his steward, he did not let on. The young man had clearly done some research on agricultural methods and animal husbandry. He was inquisitive regarding the relationship between Mr. Bennet and his tenants and the responsibilities incumbent on a landlord of his station. Mr. Roberts thought it fortunate that Mr. Collins' questions regarding the condition of several of the cottages in Longbourn village were asked in such a way as to leave no doubt that it was an eagerness to learn and not a desire to censure the current master of Longbourn that prompted them. It was with some satisfaction that the steward had agreed to meet with his employer early the following morning to discuss several matters in greater detail.

* * *

 **A/N: Surprise! Here I was endeavoring to do all manner of things domestic, and my muse popped in for a visit unannounced. I could hardly turn her away. ;)**

 **Next up: Darcy and Elizabeth … and Mr. Collins, oh my!**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Well it's certainly been more than two weeks, hasn't it? My apologies for the lengthy absence. RL is in part to blame, but my muse, it turns out, has no respect for chronology. Significant portions of what will be somewhere in the vicinity of chapters 35 and 45 are now written (major turning points in the story), but I have struggled with what was to be chapter seven and is now split between chapters seven and eight. There is a lot being set up in these two chapters, so it turned out longer than anticipated. I also struggled in writing them both. The scene with ODC in chapter eight was written first and rewritten five times before I liked it tolerably well. I am interested to know what you think (it is not long behind this one, I promise. I have exhaustively detailed notes I have to turn into one remaining scene for that chapter and it will be published not long behind this one). I'm also trying to delve deeper into the underpinnings of some of our characters in these two chapters, revealing flaws and struggles and strengths without it coming across as contrived. Your feedback on Mr. Bennet and Collins in this chapter and Mary, Elizabeth, and Darcy in the next would be ever so much appreciated. I feel like more changes are in store for the discussion of the estate at the beginning of this chapter in future edits. I just have not been able to get it quite how I'd like it – I'm looking for a delicate balance that I'm not yet entirely sure how to achieve. Well, we have a rather nasty wind storm forecasted for today here in Western Washington, so I'd better get to it so I can publish the next chapter for you all before a potential power outage. Enjoy and be sure to click on the little 'Review' button at the end. Cheers!**

CHAPTER SEVEN

Elizabeth was flipping through the volume in her hand as she entered her father's book room, oblivious to the heated conversation underway therein.

"Well, Lizzy," Mr. Bennet interrupted her absent-minded perusal, "I had expected you to be halfway to Meryton by now with the weather so fine."

She slowly shut the volume and looked up at her father and began to reply, but the words died on her lips as she started at seeing Mr. Roberts and her cousin, Mr. Collins looking on in amusement. Regaining her composure, she apologized, "I beg your pardon, gentlemen. I had no idea you were in conference this morning."

"Had you not, my dear? I had rather hoped you were come to rescue me from this tedious business. Are you certain you are all well? Is there not some manner of calamity which might require my immediate assistance?" Mr. Bennet said with mock solemnity.

"Most certainly not, Papa. I should not dream of interrupting your business discussions, particularly if Mr. Roberts is near convincing you to replace the roof of the Cartwright's cottage or repair the bridge over the creek out toward the border of the Goulding's estate?" Mr. Bennet let out an exaggerated sigh at this response and Mr. Roberts pressed his lips into a thin line and shook his head in the negative.

"Well then, I can see you need more time to discuss it amongst yourselves. I had hoped that your riding out on the estate yesterday was an indication that some of these matters might be addressed, Papa." Though Elizabeth's tone remained soft, it held a certain edge of disappointment that could not fail to register with the gentlemen. Mr. Bennet had the grace to color somewhat, betraying his embarrassment.

Mr. Collins looked between his Cousin Elizabeth and Mr. Bennet in astonishment. He was not sure if his cousin's confidence in addressing her father thus or Mr. Bennet's acceptance of her impertinence was more surprising. It was impossible for him to discern whether Mr. Bennet's obvious embarrassment was due to his own neglect of estate matters or his daughter's forwardness.

Elizabeth silently returned the volume she had brought down to the shelf behind Mr. Bennet's desk. Turning back around to the gentlemen, she placed a delicate hand upon her father's shoulder and squeezed it affectionately, "I am sorry, Papa. You know I am concerned, that is all."

"I know, child," he smiled up at her, patting the hand that rested on his shoulder.

"Do you mind if I stay?"

Before Mr. Bennet could answer her, Mr. Collins interrupted, "Surely there are more suitable diversions at hand, cousin. Would you not find the minutiae of crop rotation and animal husbandry a dull substitute for enjoying a morning ramble?" This hasty speech garnered a spirited bit of laughter from Mr. Bennet.

"I daresay my Lizzy will in fact find such topics more interesting than I," he nodded at Roberts, who rose and collected an armchair that was placed near the fire and carried it over to the desk for Elizabeth. "Lizzy has quite a notion for estate matters. She has read a great deal on the subject. She can be as insistent about a new idea for agricultural improvements as her mother is about the need for a new bit of lace for a bonnet."

Elizabeth rolled her eyes at such a comparison and offered no reply.

"I had thought ladies typically restricted their activities to visiting tenants and charitable work on the estate." Mr. Collins stated hesitantly.

"I do visit our tenants and make arrangements for them as I can," Elizabeth answered, "but as the welfare of those dependent on the estate – my own family as well as those of our tenants – is determined by the success of the estate on the whole, I take great interest in how it is run."

"Is that not usually entrusted to the master of the estate?" he inquired, carefully schooling his features. If he saw any impropriety in her actions, he hid it well.

It was fortunate that this was the case as Elizabeth paused before responding, seeming to take Mr. Collin's measure. Evidently determining he meant no ill, she replied, "I realize it is not usual for ladies to take such an interest, Mr. Collins." Choosing her words carefully, she continued, "I do not doubt my father's ability as master of Longbourn," she paused before going on, "I am a curious creature, however, and I find that my desire for knowledge is insatiable. I am hopeful that such knowledge will be an advantage rather than a detriment to my future husband and may in fact allow me to better ascertain his own character as a master and landlord."

The room was quiet for some moments after this telling speech. Although Elizabeth intended no slight against the master in attendance, her honest declaration could not help but pierce her father's heart and lead Mr. Roberts to sigh almost imperceptibly. If only the master of Longbourn could pass such a rigorous character examination.

Finding that the gentlemen were disinclined to break the silence, Elizabeth smiled and urged them to continue their earlier discussion where they left off as she settled into the chair that Roberts had procured for her.

Mr. Collins looked uncertainly at Mr. Bennet, who saw the young man's hesitancy and nodded to spur him on. The young clergyman cleared his throat before he began, "Very well, I believe we were discussing how you might adjust your current method of crop rotation to a four course system to make more efficient use of the land. Under the Norfolk system, you would divide the land into four parcels. You would rotate through wheat, turnips, barley, and clover, but the cycle would be staggered amongst the parcels such that each crop is always represented in a given year. Labor is better spread out over the course of the year in this system, and very little capital is required to make the changes."

"I still do not see the need to fix that which is not broken, young man. What am I to do with fields of clover and turnips?"

Elizabeth could sense her cousin's frustration with her father, who was being deliberately obtuse. It appeared to her that they had already discussed the subject at some length and that perhaps Mr. Bennet was testing the young man. She decided to take pity on her cousin, "As you well know, Papa, the turnips and clover will serve the dual purpose of restoring nutrients to the soil and providing grazing and fodder for livestock. Turnips in particular will be an excellent addition as the ready supply of such fodder in winter will allow us to keep livestock year round. The addition of turnips would also be an excellent move if you were able to procure enough English Leicester for breeding."

"English what?" Mr. Collins stammered, struggling to maintain his composure. His passing remark on animal husbandry had been made under the assumption his cousin had no idea or desire to know of such practices. To hear his fair cousin speak so casually regarding any sort of breeding that was not in reference to one's connections and corresponding social standing was jarring. Indeed, Mr. Collins complexion at the moment would have been more apt to bring to mind beets rather than the turnips they had so recently been discussing.

Mr. Bennet merely shrugged at Mr. Collins' inquiry, unable – or unwilling – to shed any light on the subject himself.

Mr. Roberts, amused as he was at the young man's discomposure, felt it incumbent upon him to clarify the matter and set things to right, "The English Leicester is a breed of sheep renowned for its dense wool and maturing faster than most other breeds. Robert Bakewell did much to improve the breed, and Thomas Coke, the 1st Earl of Leicester, promoted the English Leicester for its own merits and its use in developing cross-breeds."

"Not only do the English Leicester mature quickly, but they also do remarkably well on turnips, making them an ideal breed to couple with the Norfolk system of crop rotation. A quicker turnover of mutton and wool cannot but be an advantage."

"I see you have been recommending her essays on Bakewell and Coke's work yet again, Roberts," Mr. Bennet observed archly. Mr. Roberts merely shrugged at the accusation and covertly winked at Elizabeth.

"Your steady supply of the papers from London has added to my wealth of knowledge, Papa. How else would I know about the impact of this war on trade and market prices or the demand for wool for soldiers' uniforms? You cannot allow Mr. Roberts all the credit," Elizabeth teased, "So what do you think, Papa? Will you undertake to implement these changes?"

With a deep sigh, Mr. Bennet uttered, almost inaudibly, "Very well," before trailing off into what one might have mistaken for an oath had not his daughter and a clergyman been present.

"You are making a wise decision, Papa. More efficient production of grain in particular will improve your profits amidst the rising prices in the market and put you in the position to insulate the poorest of our neighbors against such increases. It is an honorable undertaking."

Mr. Collins only half attended to the ensuing conversation as his thoughts turned to what seemed a glaring deficiency in his own education in estate management. Although he was well read on the subject and had a basic understanding of economics, he was not as adept at immediately understanding the implications of particular events at home or abroad on how matters might be best handled on one's estate. He was somewhat embarrassed at this oversight on his part, though the other two gentlemen seemed to think nothing of it. For his fair cousin to put these pieces together so easily and formulate a plan that capitalized on present circumstances was impressive. And yet he did not feel impressed. She had outshone him without intending to, and he was discomfited by it.

It was not long before Mr. Collins realized how ill he had been attending the conversation as he was roused by Elizabeth rising to take her leave. She curtseyed her farewell before turning to leave the room. Upon opening the door, she called back over her shoulder with a mischievous smile, "Do be sure to ask him about the seed drill, cousin."

As the door closed behind her, Mr. Collins turned back to Mr. Bennet with a quizzical expression. Before he could utter a word, Mr. Bennet held up his hand to stop him and shook his head gravely, "Do _not_ ask me about the seed drill."

Unable to help himself, Roberts chuckled heartily.

"I have you to thank for that, Roberts," Mr. Bennet huffed.

"She has your wit, sir. I can only account for having provided her with the resources to answer her curiosity when it has arisen. She has a remarkable understanding."

"Aye, that she does. I shall be sorry to see her go when she eventually marries, even if she does take me to task for being a trifle lax in the running of things at times. Such uneasiness is short-lived, however, so I cannot hold it against her."

Neither Roberts nor Collins had anything to reply to this speech.

* * *

The Longbourn dining room was a din of conversation when Elizabeth left the gentlemen in her father's study to join her mother and sisters in breaking their fast.

"There you are, Lizzy! We were just discussing some means of bringing our dear Jane together with Mr. Bingley before the ball at Netherfield."

"We can certainly call on Miss Bingley, Mama," Elizabeth offered.

"Oh no, no. That will not do at all. Morning calls are much too short to provide an opportunity for Mr. Bingley to propose. I had considered inviting them here to Longbourn for a dinner party, but I fear I will not be able to contrive some excuse to get the two of them alone."

Elizabeth observed Jane sitting silently at their mother's immediate right, cheeks awash in a brilliant shade of pink and eyes fixed on her plate where she absently pushed food around with her fork. The second eldest Bennet daughter considered that the present matter of discussion must have been underway for some time prior to her arrival for Jane to have already moved beyond raising gentle protests against the impropriety of Fanny Bennet's designs to marry her off to a sort of mortified resignation. Elizabeth looked out a nearby window where the sun could be seen enveloping the golden autumn landscape in a warm embrace. Her attention snapped back to her present company as Mrs. Bennet admonished her for not attending to the conversation.

"I was listening, Mama," she turned and smiled warmly at her mother whose constant fidgeting left her little better able to make progress on her breakfast than her eldest daughter. "I was merely considering what manner of diversion would best suit the young people of the neighborhood. As the weather continues rather fine, even for this late in the year, I think a picnic would be well received. The prospect afforded from Oakham Mount is particularly splendid this time of year."

Mrs. Bennet wrinkled her nose at the idea, "Oh child, you know my nerves are not equal to trudging up that hill."

"You need not attempt it, Mama. I imagine that a small party of young people would be best suited for the purpose. Oakham Mount is not so expansive you know, so we must consider that too large a party would not easily afford privacy to those inclined to pursue it." Elizabeth sighed in relief as her mother gave a slight nod to this consideration. While Mrs. Bennet's absence would certainly not guarantee a proposal, it would at least remove a potential hindrance to one. Knowing her sister as she did, Jane easily comprehended was Elizabeth was about. Looking up from her plate, she smiled gratefully at her and mouthed a silent "thank you" which Elizabeth acknowledged with a sly wink.

Lydia and Kitty now found it in their interest to attend the conversation since there was the potential for some entertainment for themselves. It took some effort for Elizabeth to dissuade her youngest sisters and their mother from including several of the officers in the party. She did not mention the brief exchange between Mr. Darcy and Mr. Wickham, though it was foremost on her mind. Although she was little concerned for Mr. Darcy's feelings on the matter, she feared the unpleasantness that might pervade an otherwise reasonably enjoyable afternoon should Mr. Wickham be in attendance. At length the more general rationale that including the officers would necessarily divide the other gentlemen's attentions away from certain ladies of the party won over Mrs. Bennet, and thus Lydia and Kitty were forced to concede the point – though with some degree of pouting and a greater degree of incivility on Lydia's part. It was agreed that aside from the Longbourn and Netherfield parties, the only other invitation would be extended to the young people of Lucas Lodge. With only Charlotte and Maria presently at home, the younger Bennets could easily entertain them. Miss Bingley would no doubt make every effort to keep Mr. Darcy's attention and fate could take its natural course with whoever else of the party might be tempted to secure themselves a happy prospect for their futures.

Plans for the morrow thus set, the ladies of Longbourn were happy to move on to other subjects as Mr. Bennet and Mr. Collins broke their conference and joined them at table. The younger gentleman was apprised of their plans (though perhaps with less emphasis on precisely _why_ such a diversion was deemed necessary in the first place) and happily agreed to join the party when they made their calls later in the day to issue invitations.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N:**

 **Much gratitude to ilex-ferox who always leaves such helpful reviews and this time also provided me with information that will go a great way to helping me improve the previous chapter once I am able to get to those revisions. Your feedback (and others who have likewise provided kind constructive feedback) helps me grow as a writer, and is invaluable.**

 **– Here you are. I did write the scene with E &D first, but as I ended up splitting the chapter and had several scenes that had to take place first, it did get pushed back. I hope it proves to have been worth the wait. ;)**

 **I am enjoying the varying viewpoints on Mr. Collins and Elizabeth from the last chapter. Many of you have hit on what I am trying to convey. I don't want to go into much detail, but I will caution those who are on Mr. Collins' case not to be hasty in your judgement of Mr. Collins. In their own ways, both Mr. Darcy and Mr. Collins are wrestling with society's expectations (and a little bit of insecurity on Collins' part – though I may rewrite the last chapter a bit to make it a little less blatant). Understand that by Regency standards, Elizabeth is stepping out of bounds in her pursuit of knowledge. She is a bit of a bluestocking. Later in the story we will see that Collins is not the only one who takes issue with this departure from societal norms. In the end, we will find that it is the nature of their objections and how the young men choose to deal with them that will make all the difference. So I bid you to remember that just as Mr. Darcy is flawed and must come to terms with his shortcomings, so must Mr. Collins. Leave that God-forsaken greasy haired sycophant back in canon where he belongs. ;)**

 **This is not proofread in great detail, so my apologies in advance!**

CHAPTER EIGHT

When it came to the point, it was only Elizabeth, Mary, and Mr. Collins who set out from Longbourn to call at Netherfield and Lucas Lodge to issue invitations for the picnic on the morrow. Lydia and Kitty immediately cried off when they discovered that no time would be allotted for calling on the officers in Meryton. Jane likewise begged off, but her excuse of a headache was more readily accepted given the subject of their discourse over breakfast.

Elizabeth found that her present company was suitable to her tastes. She was surprised at Mary's attendance, but pleased just the same. Although she could not agree with her mother's tactics for securing Jane a husband, Elizabeth could not deny the attraction between Mr. Bingley and her eldest sister. It was very likely that Jane would soon give up Longbourn for Netherfield. Though Jane would still be close, her obligations would lie elsewhere. It would be wise to begin stoking the fire of sisterly affection with the middle Bennet sister as they might come to find some comfort in one another's company. With these thoughts in mind, Elizabeth linked arms with her sister Mary and Mr. Collins joined them on Mary's other side as they set off down the lane.

The weather and state of the roads having been canvassed between the three, Elizabeth sought some other topic of conversation. "I hope your business with my father this morning came to a satisfactory conclusion, Mr. Collins," she addressed her cousin, looking over Mary to where he walked on her other side.

"It did, indeed. I believe I have you to thank for helping your father see reason in undertaking some of the suggested improvements." Mr. Collins replied.

Elizabeth could only laugh in response, prompting a puzzled expression from Mr. Collins. "I beg your pardon, Mr. Collins, but I assure you that you are mistaken. Both Mr. Roberts and I have canvassed the same topics with father a number of times to no avail. I believe it is you we should be thanking."

"I do not understand," Mr. Collins frowned, "He seemed not at all familiar with the methods I was suggesting. I felt foolish explaining such things to the master of an estate when I myself have only what knowledge I have learned from books and no practical experience."

Elizabeth looked out over the fields they were passing for a moment as her cousin awaited her response. She looked back to him with a smile that did not quite reach her eyes, "If you will forgive me the impropriety of saying as much, I believe Papa was teasing you, cousin." She felt Mary stiffen a little beside her. She glanced at her sister, who was studiously examining the dirt in the path before them, and then returned her gaze to Mr. Collins as she continued her explanation, "I beg that you would not take offense. It is simply his way. He was taking your measure in a sense."

"I see," Mr. Collins replied thoughtfully, now conducting the same examination of the road before them that Mary seemed intent on undertaking, "And what do you think was his opinion of me?"

"I could not say exactly, sir. However, the fact that he was willing to take your advice seems to speak well of his esteem for you." She offered him an encouraging smile, which he returned at length.

After several moments of silent reflection, Mr. Collins spoke again, this time attempting to draw Mary into the conversation, "Cousin Mary, your sister told me this morning that she often calls on your father's tenants. Do you often accompany her on these visits?"

Mary seemed a bit startled at being addressed, but soon found her voice, "I have been but rarely, sir. Lizzy usually makes her calls rather early, and I am generally engrossed in my studies at that time."

Mr. Collins considered her response for a moment before responding, "It is very well that you are so dedicated to your studies, Miss Marry, but might I make a suggestion?"

"Of course, sir," she replied hesitantly.

"I would challenge you to invest as much time in applying the lessons you have learned as you do in procuring such knowledge. The knowledge we attain through study is only as valuable as what we do with it."

"I do my best to refrain from such behavior as would be unbecoming a Christian young woman, sir," she responded, uncertain of his meaning.

Here Mr. Collins gathered her free arm into his and patted her hand reassuringly, "I am sure you do, cousin. However, scripture is not merely a collection of rules regarding what we must _not_ do. It also informs us on how we ought to live and provides us with several excellent examples. Do you recall the greatest commandment, which our Lord himself declared when questioned by the religious leaders of his time?"

"Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy mind?" She replied as though asking a question.

"Excellent!" Mr. Collins beamed at her, causing her to colour at his praise, "And the second?"

"Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself," she responded, more sure of herself this time.

"Precisely. It is difficult to truly love our neighbours from a distance, is it not? It is only in getting to know them, understanding who they are, their joys and struggles, that we can comprehend how best to demonstrate love to them. Closeting ourselves away only robs us of the opportunity to live out the faith we profess to believe in. Even our Saviour himself did not spend all his time in the temple. He was out with the ordinary people of his day, teaching and demonstrating the compassion and love he embodied. That is how we are to live as well."

"I had not thought of it that way, sir."

"You are not alone. While charitable acts are not uncommon, they are more often done out of a sense of duty or honor than out of genuine love and compassion. The former are not without merit, but they cannot be so wholly life-changing as a gift given of the heart with no thought of selfish ambition. Still more are satisfied to warm a pew on Sunday morning and live as they will until they return the following week with no thought to how their lives impact those around them."

"That must be rather discouraging to a gentleman in your position," Mary observed thoughtfully.

"Too true, cousin. I find I am still struggling with finding contentment in my own obedience and leaving the rest up to the Almighty."

"How would you suggest I begin, sir? To reach out to my neighbours, I mean."

"Well, I am sure your sister would welcome your company as she calls on the tenants and ministers to their needs. It also would not hurt to allow yourself to engage in innocent diversions with your friends and neighbours. There can be no harm in enjoying yourself, cousin, provided the activity is within the realm of propriety. Such diversions may provide the means of building relationships. It is relationship that we find opportunity to love and be loved in return," Mr. Collins looked down at Mary after this speech, and his look was returned with a gaze of such gratitude and appreciation, no verbal thanks was necessary.

A contented silence fell upon their little party as they continued on their way. Although she had not contributed to Mary and Mr. Collin's conversation, Elizabeth had attended the exchange with eager interest. She could not help but feel she was watching the beginnings of a transformation taking place as her cousin gently drew out her usually reticent sister. She was astonished at how just a little bit of care and attention utterly changed how Mary responded. She realized with some degree of regret that her own motivations in seeking out Mary were at their root, selfish in nature. She had thought more of securing her own comfort in the wake of the eventual loss of Jane's company than she had for Mary herself. It was only then that she realized how truly neglected Mary had been. She was neither of her parents' favored child, and while Elizabeth had devoted her affections to Jane and her admonitions to her youngest two sisters, who were themselves thick as thieves, Mary had simply been overlooked. If she were truly honest, even her admonitions to her youngest sisters were not truly for their own sakes so much as to forestall any embarrassment she or Jane might feel on their behalf. She would have to think further on these things, but for now every fiber of her being screamed to be _doing_.

"Look there just ahead," Elizabeth pointed up the lane just a bit to a copse of trees where a lovely oak tree stood, twisted and reaching in every direction with its weathered boughs, "Shall we race?" she asked eagerly, bouncing on her toes as she smiled enticingly at her companions.

"To the tree?" Mr. Collins asked.

"She will mean up the tree, cousin," Mary answered for her sister, rolling her eyes.

"Both?" Elizabeth challenged.

"Challenge accepted!" Mr. Collins replied with a laugh, rubbing his hands together in anticipation. He and Elizabeth both looked to Mary.

"Oh, no," Mary waved them off. "I shall keep my feet firmly planted on the ground, thank you. Do be careful, both of you!" She had to raise her voice so they could hear the last bit, as Elizabeth had taken off with Mr. Collins fast on her heels.

* * *

Mr. Darcy breathed an audible sigh of relief as he walked briskly toward the Netherfield stables. His habit of rising early served him well in his efforts to evade Miss Bingley's increasingly desperate attentions as even her fevered aspirations to become mistress of Pemberley could not overcome her penchant for rising late. He would not tempt fate, however, so he politely declined the footman's offer to have his horse brought round for him. The thought of being cornered alone by Miss Bingley made him shudder.

As Darcy strode into the stables, Achilles greeted his master with restless enthusiasm. The gentleman patted the great chestnut stallion affectionately. "We will be on our way in short work, good fellow. We are neither of us equal to being cooped up this morning," Darcy whispered soothingly to the restive beast as he dismissed the groomsman and set to work saddling Achilles himself. Glancing up to catch a fleeting look of relief on the groomsman's visage, Darcy chuckled softly, "Have you been misbehaving again, Achilles? Martin seems quite glad to be rid of you this morning." The pair made quick work of putting Netherfield Hall behind them and were soon flying across the Hertfordshire landscape in a brilliant display of athleticism.

It was some time before Darcy reined in his equine companion, out of breath and sweating from the exertion. If only he could outrun the worries that plagued him with such ease. As he eased Achilles into a walk and led them down a lane he was certain would lead back toward the environs of Netherfield, his mind wandered back to those very concerns that had sent him off from Netherfield at such a punishing pace that morning. What little equanimity Darcy had recovered in the past few weeks had vanished with the arrival of George Wickham in Meryton. Part of him had wanted to dismount and call the blackguard out where he stood at that first meeting, but to do so would have risked exposing dear Georgianna. Whatever his feelings were toward Wickham, he could not risk Georgianna's reputation. The people of most country villages were well-versed in the less savory aspects of hosting a company of militia. The stories of debts accrued and reputations lost at the hands of the members of local militias were well enough circulated, that the people of Meryton could not be ignorant of the risks. Darcy reasoned that this would excuse him from issuing more explicit warnings against a specific member of this particular company. The townspeople would know well enough to safeguard themselves – and their daughters – against the likes of George Wickham. Would they not? It was a weak argument in light of his knowledge of that man's silver tongue and considerable skill for charming his way into the good favor of any with whose connection he felt he might benefit. That the second eldest daughter of a particular member of the local gentry came to mind as he ruminated on the subject, he could not deny. He knew full well that his encounter with Wickham would not have been so disarming had he not come upon him in the company of a certain young lady from Longbourn.

That young lady was the other matter weighing on Darcy. His mind and heart continued to wrestle over his attraction to Miss Elizabeth Bennet. Despite seeing little of her since her stay at Netherfield, his affection for her had not waned as he had hoped. He felt the loss of her company most keenly. Elizabeht's intelligent conversation and cheeky wit breathed life into his weary soul. She did not seek to flatter him, but rather she challenged him. There were times when her obstinacy might have been infuriating had she not been so uniformly charming. She was not one to follow blindly, regardless of what might be expected of her sex. She had a brilliant mind, and even in the absence of any formal education, she had applied herself exceedingly well. Her keen curiosity was evident in the manner in which she posed questions in the course of conversation. Indeed, her understanding exceeded that of many university-educated gentlemen of Darcy's acquaintance. While that might not be a recommendation for her to society in general, to him it was a welcome juxtaposition to the common ignorance of the marriageable females frequently forced upon his notice in town. In his experience, those ladies with any pretension to wit either squandered it on shallow pursuits or employed it for more dubious machinations. He unfortunately had more experience with the latter than he cared to recall.

Darcy knew very well, however, that it was not merely Elizabeth's mind that he admired. Her person was equally pleasing. He had lost himself more than once in perusal of her enchanting features – a weakness that had cost him significant mortification following his ill-advised remark regarding her fine eyes to Miss Bingley. It was unfortunate that Elizabeth's situation made it impossible for him to pursue her, but knowing her gave him hope that such another might exist with whom he might hope to have the sort of felicitous marriage his parents had enjoyed. He was hopeful that a more prolonged – and permanent – absence from the lady's company would resolve any lingering infatuation and leave him to pursue a more suitable match elsewhere. He would depart Hertfordshire following the ball at Netherfield as planned and that would be the end of it. He would endeavor to convince Bingley to do likewise. That he would have to solicit Miss Bingley's assistance to bring this plan to fruition was unfortunate, but it was a small price to pay for the peace of mind both gentlemen would be afforded in the long run.

The distant sound of feminine laughter roused Mr. Darcy from his reflections. He swept his gaze over the road and across the adjacent meadows, seeking out the source of the sound. As he approached a small copse of trees not far off the lane, the laughter came again, louder this time. He drew in a sharp breath at the sound, his heart frantically attempting to escape his chest as recognition overtook him. She was here, stealing upon him just as he was convincing himself to give her up. Every fiber of his being ached to take in the bewitching eyes and radiant smile he knew accompanied the jubilant sound of her mirth. The gentleman found himself dismounting and leading his horse down the lane before he could reason himself out of it, his resolution against her so soon forgotten.

As Mr. Darcy approached the stand of trees, he could see one of Bennet ladies – _which was it? Catherine? No, Mary was it?_ – hovering beneath an ancient oak, her back to the road. She was speaking to someone hidden from his view. He was not yet close enough to make out what she was saying, but he followed her gaze up and let out a breath as his eyes rested upon the lithe figure of Elizabeth Bennet.

A twig snapped loudly under Mr. Darcy's foot as he came to a stop a few yards away. Elizabeth turned her head toward the noise and rested her gaze on the gentleman. She was exquisite, a wood nymph gracefully adorning the branches of a towering oak, her eyes bright and brimming with playful intelligence. Her cheeks were glowing from the exertion of climbing. A few of her dark curls had escaped their pins and dangled becomingly at her shoulders. The sight of her took his breath away. He stood transfixed, unaware of the brilliant smile that graced his lips and brought his dark eyes to life. Elizabeth tilted her head at him questioningly before arching her brow in that way that drove him mad and returning his smile with one of her own. They remained there for a moment, lost in one another's gaze before she ducked back into the branches and disappeared from his sight. His breath caught at the loss of her.

"Good day, Mr. Darcy!" she called out to him as she reappeared on one of the lower branches a moment later and gracefully lowered herself to the ground. She shook out her skirts and her lips formed a crooked little smile as she started toward him. He tipped his hat and nodded to her as well as Mary, who had turned to face him at her sister's greeting.

Elizabeth came to a stop just a few feet from where he and Achilles stood at the side of the lane. "What brings you this way this morning, Mr. Darcy? You are quite a ways from Netherfield, and you never know what sort of mischief you might encounter in these parts." She arched her brow teasingly as though daring him to remark upon the entirely unladylike pursuit he had just witnessed. Good Lord, how he wanted to kiss those impertinent lips.

"A risk well worth taking in light of the view afforded to those willing to brave it, Miss Elizabeth." He returned lightly, the corner of his lips turned up in amusement. She was baiting him, but he would not satisfy her.

Taken aback by Mr. Darcy's blithe response, Elizabeth stared at him curiously until a soft nudge against her arm returned her to her senses. She cried out in surprise at seeing how close Achilles had come to her. The great beast nuzzled her insistently.

At Elizabeth's cry, Mr. Darcy leapt forward and tugged at Achilles reins to draw him away from the lady, "My apologies, Miss Elizabeth. I hope he did not frighten you overly much. He is a spirited beast, but I assure you he will not harm you."

"He merely took me by surprise, Mr. Darcy. You need not be concerned on my account," Elizabeth replied, having quickly regained her composure. "He is a handsome animal. What do you call him?"

"Achilles," Mr. Darcy replied, struggling slightly against his mount's persistent efforts to draw nearer to Elizabeth.

Elizabeth smiled sweetly, the gentleman's efforts not going unnoticed, "Achilles? And what pray tell, you handsome boy, is your weakness?" she addressed the wayward steed as she approached him and ran her fingers through his mane, eliciting a whinny from the beast.

"It would seem he shares a weakness with his master," Mr. Darcy observed almost inaudibly.

Darcy watched as Elizabeth's eyes widened before she shifted her gaze from master to beast. The air was pregnant with tension as she seemed to contemplate an appropriate response. After a moment of painful silence, she finally turned her gaze back to him. Her eyebrow arched in playful response as her lips curled into a mischievous grin, "I had no idea you are so partial to apples, Mr. Darcy." His brow furrowed in confusion until he saw her reach into her pocket and pull out an apple she had tucked away, no doubt pilfered from the kitchen on her way out that morning. She held the apple out to Achilles, who eagerly accepted the proffered treat, before returning her gaze to his master.

Mr. Darcy met her gaze with a shy smile playing at his lips, "Among other things, Elizabeth."

Elizabeth's expression was unreadable, though the becoming shade of pink that crept up her neck and onto her cheeks gave some indication of her inner turmoil. "Mr. Darcy," she began hesitantly, her posture stiffening. "Are you …"

The question died on her lips as the sound of a tree limb snapping served as a timely reminder of the presence of the others from Elizabeth's party. She turned to look behind her just as Mr. Collins dropped unceremoniously from the tree, losing his footing and falling backwards. He laughed merrily as he righted himself and dusted off the dirt and twigs that clung to his attire.

Elizabeth chuckled at her cousin's clumsiness, "My cousin, Mr. Collins, Mr. Darcy. You met briefly in Meryton earlier this week, if you recall," she said as she watched her cousin shrug back into his jacket and begin to make his way toward the rest of the party. The relaxing of her posture betrayed her relief at the interruption.

Mr. Darcy had not previously been aware of Mr. Collins presence and he was vexed beyond reason at the interruption. Elizabeth's relief at her cousin joining them had not gone unnoticed. He silently chastised himself. He had acted the love-struck fool, all but declaring himself to her in a moment of weakness. Good lord, he had used her Christian name – a slip he prayed she had not noticed.

Elizabeth had turned back to Mr. Darcy in time to see him stiffen, his broad smile slipping away to be hidden behind the impenetrable mask she knew so well. Her own smile faded as she pondered whether all she had just witnessed had been a mere figment of her imagination. She had been caught off guard by how alarmingly handsome Mr. Darcy was when he smiled. If she had not known him to believe her merely tolerable, she might have suspected that fervent gaze to be one of ardent admiration and his flattering words sincere. But no, it was impossible. He would not be the first rich man of high standing to trifle with someone so decidedly beneath him. As he slipped back behind his mask, the recollection of Mr. Wickham's charges against him strengthened her resolve against him. She frowned at this remembrance and sighed.

"A pleasure to see you again, Mr. Darcy," Mr. Collins greeted the gentleman as he reached them. "My apologies for not greeting you sooner, sir. I am afraid you have been witness to my supreme mortification this morning. My cousin has shamed me mercilessly with her superior tree climbing skills." Mr. Collins turned to his cousin, beaming, before returning his gaze to Mr. Darcy.

Elizabeth returned Mr. Collin's smile, and the warm look of mutual enjoyment that passed between the cousins was not lost on Mr. Darcy. His jaw clenched and his chest tightened such that feared he might suffocate under the pressure of it. The silence stretched out to an awkward length before Elizabeth unwittingly came to his rescue.

"You and my cousin have a mutual acquaintance, Mr. Darcy. He has recently taken up the Hunsford living under the patronage of your aunt, Lady Catherine de Bourgh," she explained, no longer daring to meet that gentleman's gaze.

If ever there was a topic sure to cool one's ardor, it was Lady Catherine de Bourgh. The woman was certainly capable of eliciting passionate responses, but not those of the variety her nephew had so recently been experiencing. Mr. Darcy recovered himself and responded, "I seem to recall my aunt mentioning the appointment in a recent bit of correspondence. I congratulate you, Mr. Collins. It is a fine living. I hope you are pleased with it."

"I am indeed, sir. It is a generous living. I am mindful of my good fortune."

"I shall leave you all to your intended pursuits. I should return to Netherfield." Mr. Darcy bowed abruptly and turned as to mount his horse.

Elizabeth called out for him to wait a moment. He hesitated before turning back toward her to find she had approached within a few feet of him. "Yes, Miss Elizabeth?" he replied in a clipped tone.

Elizabeth's eyes searched his as she furrowed her brow. She hesitated before issuing the intended invitation, "As the weather continues uncommonly fine for this time of year, we – my sisters and I, my cousin, and perhaps the Lucases – will be picnicking on Oakham Mount tomorrow afternoon. We would be pleased if you along with the Bingleys and the Hursts could join us."

"Thank you, Miss Elizabeth. I cannot speak for Mr. Bingley and his sisters, but I will convey your message to them and have Bingley send round a note to Longbourn this evening to let you know whether you are to expect us tomorrow." Mr. Darcy concluded his answer with a swift bow before mounting his horse. Elizabeth and her companions curtseyed and bowed in response and watched him gallop off toward Netherfield.

* * *

"Well that was interesting," Mary broke the silence.

"He did seem to be in quite a hurry to be off, did he not?" Mr. Collins replied thoughtfully, glancing sidelong at Elizabeth.

Breaking her gaze from Mr. Darcy's retreating form, Elizabeth turned back toward her sister and cousin, "Knowing Mr. Darcy, I imagine there was little that could _tempt_ him to stay," she said with derision.

"I am not certain that is the case. He did seem quite taken with the scenery when he first approached." Mr. Collins teased, "Perhaps he simply recalled a pressing engagement."

Comprehending his meaning, Elizabeth responded with perhaps a little more forcefulness than she intended, "You are mistaken, Mr. Collins. Mr. Darcy has made it quite clear at every turn that Hertfordshire and all its inhabitants are quite beneath his notice."

"Lizzy, you cannot know that for certain. We hardly know the gentleman. It would be a pity to cast judgement on so short an acquaintance. It would be best to reserve judgement until his character is better understood," Mary gently chided her sister.

"I confess I have little knowledge of Mr. Darcy's dealings in Hertfordshire, but I cannot but agree with your sister." Mr. Collins said, smiling as he added, "Besides, I cannot believe the gentlemen hold _all_ of Hertfordshire's inhabitants in such contempt."

"I see what you are about, cousin," Elizabeth marched off toward the oak where her bonnet lay abandoned near the trunk. When she returned to her companions, she began again, "I do not understand how anyone can suffer under the illusion that Mr. Darcy favors me. He has made it perfectly clear what he thinks of me."

"Has he?" Mr. Collins inquired with barely concealed amusement at his cousin's pique.

"Yes, he has. Upon our first making his acquaintance at the assembly in Meryton, he declared to Mr. Bingley that I was merely tolerable, but not handsome enough to tempt him to dance with me."

"Can this be true? Perhaps you misheard him?" Mr. Collins could not reconcile such a scathing remark with what he could only assume were looks of admiration that he had now twice observed Mr. Darcy bestowing on his unwitting cousin.

"I am afraid it is so," Mary admitted, "I was sitting next to Lizzy at the assembly and heard the entire exchange between Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy."

"It is not merely that one evening's performance, however, that has formed my opinion of Mr. Darcy," Elizabeth continued, summarizing the myriad of offenses Mr. Darcy was to have committed against her friends and neighbors. Mr. Collins listened with rapt attention, and Mary quite gave up tempering Elizabeth's ire with her own observations or exhortations not to be so hard on the gentleman.

"Whatever anyone may say, I am convinced that if arriving at Netherfield to inquire after Jane with my petticoats six inches deep in mud did not solidify Mr. Darcy's disdain for me, that finding me quite up a tree on a public lane – with a gentleman, no less – must be the final nail in the coffin of my reputation as far as the gentleman is concerned. I am sure he is this moment hurrying back to Netherfield to tell Miss Bingley what a shameless hoyden I am."

"You are impossible, Lizzy." Mary shook her head at Elizabeth.

"Dear Mary, you are right to scold me. I should not gossip so – no matter how true it may be," Elizabeth gave a crooked little smile and nudged Mary's shoulder, causing her to begrudgingly return a smile of her own.

Although Mr. Collins could not believe that Mr. Darcy truly thought so little of Elizabeth, he did find some relief in knowing that whatever affections the gentleman felt for her were not reciprocated. He had been disappointed on his first observation of Mr. Darcy's apparent admiration for his cousin. Not knowing the nature of the relationship or even how to go about inquiring about such a thing, he had been hesitant to give in to the growing regard he himself felt for the lady. Having a clearer understanding of Elizabeth's feelings on the matter at least, he felt he could begin to pursue her with a clear conscience.


	9. Chapter 9 (Part I)

**CHAPTER NINE (PART I)**

"I very nearly asked him if he were in his cups, Charlotte!" Elizabeth said with a degree of exasperation that caused her dear friend and neighbor to swallow rather more of her tea than she intended.

Coughing slightly to clear the offending liquid from her throat, Charlotte chastised Elizabeth lightly, "I am glad you did not, Lizzy. A man of Mr. Darcy's station would not have taken kindly to such an insult to his character, even in jest."

"I assure you it would not have been meant in jest," Elizabeth returned defiantly, crossing her arms in front of her as she leaned back in the chair she occupied in the drawing room of Lucas Lodge.

Charlotte rolled her eyes at stubborn young woman before her. At seven and twenty and with no prospects, Charlotte had little patience for Elizabeth's determined refusal to recognize a potential suitor when one presented himself. While not exactly jealous of her handsome, lively friend, her overriding pragmatism would not allow her to neglect an opportunity to steer her childhood friend away from the sort of life to which she had so recently resigned herself."Have you considered our earlier conversation, Lizzy?"

Elizabeth mirrored Charlotte's eye roll and huffed loudly, "I have, and I cannot agree."

Charlotte gave Elizabeth a sad smile, glancing over to the opposite side of the room where Sir William and Mr. Collins were engaged in an animated discussion. "Of course you do not," she sighed.

"I do not understand how anyone can be under the mistaken impression that Mr. Darcy admires me, Charlotte. My cousin hinted at the same thing this morning. It is absurd. Though he may have given some indication of admiration today, I cannot think his intentions in doing so honourable. On every other occasion of our meeting, the man has glared at me with such a look of contempt that I cannot imagine what I have done to offend him."

"I do not believe Mr. Darcy would have any dishonourable intent toward you, Lizzy. He has not given any indication that he is unprincipled. You merely caught him by surprise, and he was unguarded. You ought to believe me. You know I am not subject to romantic imaginings. I believe you judge the poor man too harshly on account of your vanity having been wounded."

"I am a vain creature, Charlotte," Elizabeth smiled at her friend, straightening in her seat and lifting her chin, "but you are wrong about Mr. Darcy."

"You are impossible, Lizzy. I will say no more on the subject."

"Good. Now, will you attend the Netherfield Ball?"

"I will be unable to attend, Lizzy. I am to London in three days time." Elizabeth could not miss the sudden change of countenance in her friend as she responded to the question.

"To London?"

"Yes, Lizzy," Charlotte breathed deeply and then met Elizabeth's eyes with hardened resolve, "My aunt believes she may have found a position for me as a governess for a respectable family of her acquaintance."

"No!" Elizabeth exclaimed, drawing concerned glances from the gentlemen across the room.

Charlotte raised her hand to halt her friend's outburst and turned to offer a demure smile to the gentlemen in assurance that everything was well. Having done so, she turned back to Elizabeth, "Lizzy, we have spoken of this at length. I understand you hope for better for me and I admire your ability to hold out such hope when others have long given it up. Indeed, it is evidence of your affection for me, which I cannot but cherish. However, I can no longer trespass on my parents' kindness. I am a burden to them. I have no prospects, Lizzy. If I can have no husband or children of my own, I believe I will be content to have a hand in raising those of another. In that way, I will not be deprived of such joy."

"But, Charlotte …"

"No, Lizzy. No more arguments, please. I have made my decision. If the family is pleased with me after this interview, I will return home for Christmas and then depart for London after the new year. That will give me an opportunity to get to know the children prior to the start of the season. I very much wish to enjoy my remaining time in Hertfordshire. It would be difficult to do so if we were to needlessly argue this point any further."

Charlotte looked at her friend with such a look of desperate pleading, that Elizabeth could not but admit defeat. She sighed and moved to sit on the settee next to Charlotte, taking her hands and pressing them affectionately with her own. "It will be as you say, Charlotte. I cannot like it, but if you will be happy, I will acquiesce. I shall miss you fiercely."

"I shall miss you as well, Lizzy."

"You will attend the picnic tomorrow, though?"

"Oh, yes!" Charlotte perked up instantly, offering Elizabeth a genuine smile. "I would not miss it for the world."

Here Maria Lucas and Mary Bennet joined the two friends, and the conversation turned to lighter subjects. The Longbourn party soon took their leave with promises to call to collect the young people of Lucas Lodge on their way to Oakham Mount on the morrow.

* * *

The halls of Longbourn buzzed with excited anticipation the following morning. A reply in the affirmative had indeed been received from Netherfield, bringing joy to more than one quarter. Even the youngest Bennets seemed eager to set out on their excursion despite the glaring absence of scarlet coats amongst their prospective party.

When at last the time for their departure arrived, Mr. Bingley and his party presented themselves at Longbourn so that they might not be deprived of a single moment of the Bennets' company. Such were Mr. Bingley's words, though Elizabeth suspected he was the only one of his party harbouring such sentiments. They had arrived in Mr. Bingley's carriage, which the gentleman kindly offered, along with the services of several of his footmen to convey their picnic provisions to Oakham Mount so the young people could walk thither unencumbered. For their parts, Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst preferred to occupy the limited space in the carriage rather than risk exposing their petticoats to the same fate to which those of another young woman of their acquaintance had recently succumbed. If any of the others felt themselves bereft of their company, it was tolerated with such equanimity that those affected were able to forbear mentioning it at all.

All pleasantries having been exchanged, the young people were soon on their way. Mr. Bingley quite naturally eased himself into a pairing with Jane Bennet as they leisurely made their way along the road to Oakham Mount. Kitty and Lydia linked arms and quickly outstripped the others as they carried on a secret conference in hushed tones occasionally punctuated by outbursts of mirth. Preferring a more vigorous pace herself, and wary of allowing her youngest sisters to get too far ahead of the rest of their party, Elizabeth kept pace behind them along with Mary and her cousin, Mr. Collins. Mr. Darcy, who had said little more than what was strictly required upon his arrival at Longbourn was hesitant to join Elizabeth's neat little grouping, but a single glance back at his friend convinced him that his presence would not be welcome there. Thus he fell into stride next to Elizabeth. Conversation was light and cheerful as most of the young people were eager to spend the day in one another's company. Though the gentleman from Derbyshire was not as inclined toward company as the rest, the corners of his lips could occasionally be seen to lift ever so slightly in amusement at a witty remark made by one of his companions.

It was not long before the party reached the lane that led toward Lucas Lodge and found three young people anxiously awaiting their arrival. Mr. John Lucas's attendance with his sisters was a pleasant surprise to the Bennets, and warm greetings and corresponding introductions to their cousin and the gentlemen staying at Netherfield were quickly dispensed with so that they might continue on their way.

Lydia clamored for Mr. Lucas's attention, insisting that he join herself and Kitty for the remainder of the walk to Oakham Mount, an invitation which he readily accepted. Though not as outwardly enthusiastic in the expression of her delight in his arrival, Kitty's demure smiles and pink-tinged cheeks left little doubt that she found great pleasure in his company. Charlotte and Elizabeth exchanged a knowing look and laughed quietly to themselves. Mr. Collins offered each of the two friends one of his arms and they followed after the youngest members of their party.

Seeing that Mr. Bingley was not inclined to give up his pairing with her eldest sister and that Elizabeth was unlikely to welcome Mr. Darcy into her merry trio, Mary took pity on the gentleman and asked him to join her and Maria Lucas. Though he appeared surprised at the invitation, Mr. Darcy gave a slight bow of thanks and silently fell in with the two young ladies.

After several moments of awkward silence, Mary nervously addressed the gentleman, "Are you looking forward to the ball at Netherfield, sir?"

Having not heard Miss Mary utter more than two syllables together previously, Mr. Darcy was even more surprised at this inquiry than he had been at her invitation to join the two young ladies on their walk. He recovered quickly, however, answering honestly, "I fear I must disappoint you, Miss Mary. I am not overly fond of a ball. My hosts are looking forward to it, however, and I am certain it will be a splendid affair for those who delight in such diversions."

"You do not disappoint me, Mr. Darcy," Mary gave him a slight smile, "I believe we are of the same mind regarding the prospect of enjoyment in a ball."

"Truly, Miss Mary? Do you not share your sisters' enthusiasm for dancing?" Mr. Darcy was genuinely surprised.

"I am not entirely opposed to dancing on the rare occasion that I am asked, but I do find that I am ill-qualified to recommend myself to strangers. The awkwardness I feel on such occasions generally overtakes any enjoyment I might otherwise find in the event." Maria's eyes widened at Mary's response to Mr. Darcy, surprised at such a forthright answer from the usually reticent Mary Bennet. Maria herself was so intimidated by the illustrious gentlemen from Derbyshire, that she kept silent during their exchange, wondering at what had come over her friend.

"I see we are more alike than I had realized, Miss Mary." Mr. Darcy offered Mary an easy smile and his arm, which she gladly accepted, "I too lack the talent that some possess of conversing easily with those I have never seen before. I cannot catch their tone of conversation, or appear interested in their concerns, as I often see done."

"Precisely!" Mary exclaimed, "Though I am sure Elizabeth would tell us that it is our own fault for not taking the trouble of practising." Out of the corner of her eye, Mary caught a fleeting glimpse of a dimple upon Mr. Darcy's cheek as a warm smile spread across his lips ever so briefly. She smiled to herself, gazing ahead of them to where the subject of her last remark conversed happily with her dear friend and cousin.

 _ **A/N: The remainder of the picnic will ultimately be included in this chapter (requiring some reconfiguring on FF down the line), but I wanted to give you what I have at the moment as this update is long overdue. I am hoping to have the rest of the picnic scene completed this week (maybe even today or tomorrow), but as life is a little crazy at the moment, I didn't want to delay this update any longer. I KNOW some of you are going to be very unhappy about the direction I am headed with Charlotte, but it is what it is. I'm sorry (but not enough to change it). Adding another romantic pairing to the plot I already have in the works would drag the story out unnecessarily. There are plenty of great fanfics with Charlotte happily married off, so I'm afraid her storyline will be a small dose of reality in mine. How do you like Mary's attempt to put herself out there a little more and engage with others around her (and that Mr. Darcy was her first attempt outside the family)?**_

 _ **I am still getting a feel for how much detail I want to include in some of these scenes. I felt that too much coverage of the conversation on this walk would be cumbersome and not move the plot forward enough to dwell on it. I hope there is enough here for your enjoyment. I will leave you now to get back to work on the rest of this chapter (along with picking children up from babysitting gigs, grocery shopping, meal train delivering, and other what-nots). Cheers!**_

 _ **JG**_


	10. Chapter 9 (Part II)

**There is a longer author's note at the end. For now, let's get down to business.**

CHAPTER NINE (PART II)

Once reunited with her companions for the day's diversion, Miss Bingley wasted no time in expressing the degree to which their prolonged absence had been felt. Mrs. Hurst, as usual, had little to add aside from the occasional well-placed nod in agreement with her unmarried sister's pronouncements. If she appeared relieved to no longer be the sole audience to her sister's grousing, it was politely overlooked. At length, Mr. Bingley interrupted the lady's observations to gently admonish her, reminding her that she might have joined the rest of the party on their ramble and thus not have been deprived of their company or made to wait in the carriage for their arrival. Mr. Bingley's willingness to correct his sister came as a surprise to more than one of their party. Mr. Darcy raised an eyebrow inquiringly at Charles, who shrugged and turned his attention back to Jane Bennet. Elizabeth and Charlotte exchanged knowing looks. None, however, were more surprised than Miss Bingley herself. An indignant huff was her only response before turning away from her offending brother and swiftly attaching herself to his friend.

As Mr. Bingley's staff had already carried the necessary provisions up Oakham Mount in anticipation of their master's arrival, there was nothing left to be done but for the young people to set out on the path toward the awaiting repast themselves. During their climb to the top, Miss Bingley,expecting to find in Mr. Darcy a sympathetic listener, voiced her opinions on a number of topics she considered to be of particular interest. These included criticisms of their present company, her observations on the superiority of town to the country, complaints regarding the steepness of the climb, and declarations of the general ridiculousness of a picnic in November. The gentleman, when he was not more agreeably engaged watching the vibrant young woman up ahead leading their party up to one of her favorite haunts, feigned polite interest in all Miss Bingley had to say. For the most part she required no response, which was fortunate as Mr. Darcy could not help but consider that it must have slipped her mind that he himself was a country gentleman and that his own home was situated in close proximity to the famed Peak District, which afforded plentiful walks against which the steepness of their present ascent would pale in comparison. So it was that as they neared their destination, one of the pair was uncharacteristically relieved to broaden his company and the other was well-pleased with what she perceived as a successful campaign to garner the gentleman's appreciation for her superior sense.

Upon arriving at a clearing near the top of the mount, the gentlemen assisted the ladies in seating themselves on the blankets that were neatly situated in the grass and adorned with a splendid array of offerings from the kitchens of Netherfield, Longbourn, and Lucas Lodge. Lemonade was poured, plates passed, and the company endeavored to make polite conversation as they enjoyed their meal.

Tiring of conversation regarding the upcoming ball at Netherfield which she had been coerced into planning as hostess in her brother's home, Miss Bingley's ill humour at length led her to pay what might from anyone else have been taken as a compliment to Charlotte Lucas. "Miss Lucas, these potatoes are simply divine! You must have your cook send the recipe to Netherfield as soon as may be," Miss Bingley's tone held a certain sharpness that belied the kindness of the words themselves. Elizabeth caught the lady's expression and glanced from her to her dear friend. It was likely that Miss Bingley had learned through her staff or gossip in town that the Lucases did not keep a cook. Though elevated to the knighthood, a cook was not a luxury Sir William Lucas could afford. Charlotte and her sister helped their mother prepare their meals and Elizabeth knew that the potatoes were one of Charlotte's specialties.

Charlotte was not as inclined as her friend to rise to such a challenge, so she simply thanked Miss Bingley and told her she would see that the cook at Netherfield received the recipe in due course.

Feeling it wise to steer the conversation in another direction, Elizabeth turned to Mr. Bingley, "Tell me, Mr. Bingley, how are you liking running your own estate?"

"I am still adjusting to the role of landlord, Miss Elizabeth, but I can say that it suits me rather well. Darcy here has been of great use in helping me learn the ropes and navigate the various issues one must address in running an estate."

"I am glad to hear it, sir. And have you had an opportunity to meet many of your tenants? I am sure they must be relieved to have a landlord in residence so that their needs might be attended to more efficiently than they have come to expect in the years Netherfield has lain vacant."

"Indeed, I have become acquainted with several of them over the past few weeks."

"Have you by chance had an occasion to meet the Sedgewicks?"

Mr. Bingley furrowed his brow in thought briefly before declaring that he did not recall having done so as of yet.

"I only mention them as their parcel borders my father's estate and is in close proximity to two of our own tenants who I visit regularly. Whilst Netherfield was vacant, I would include the Sedgewicks in my calls as Mrs. Sedgewick is very poorly and the children are rather young to be of much assistance. I believe Mr. Jones attends Mrs. Sedgewick out of kindness, though he can little afford to extend the charity himself. I do not believe the harvest was particularly kind to Mr. Sedgewick last year on account of some drainage issues that were left unattended. I fear the owner has been slow to address issues that have come up over the past few years." Elizabeth was well aware that her father's own tenants, the Cartwrights, were suffering under similar circumstances. She only hoped that Mr. Bingley would be quicker to act on the information than her father had.

"I am sure my brother and Mr. Darcy have the matter entirely in hand, Eliza. There is no need for your interference," Miss Bingley was clearly affronted at Elizabeth's knowledge of the matter and forwardness in mentioning it in company. Elizabeth cut her off before she could finish.

"I beg your pardon for my rudeness in interrupting you, Miss Bingley. I have no doubt of your brother's ability to handle the matter. I had only hoped to speak on behalf of his tenant as I know Mr. Sedgewick is soft spoken and may perhaps be hesitant to put forward his case knowing that your brother is now burdened with a multitude of matters to which he must attend." Turning back to Mr. Bingley, Elizabeth added, "I hope you will excuse my forwardness, Mr. Bingley. I meant no offense."

"None taken," Mr. Bingley said with his characteristic smile, "Your compassion for my tenants as well as your father's does you credit."

Mr. Darcy observed with conversation with obvious interest, a fact that did not go unnoticed by Miss Bingley. Mistaking his interest as disapproval, she endeavored to call further attention to what she considered a erring in Elizabeth Bennet's behavior. "Do you spend very much time in company with your father's tenants, Miss Eliza?" Miss Bingley could scarcely disguise the wrinkling of her nose at the very thought of entering such lowly dwellings to attend to those so far below her station.

"I do, Miss Bingley. They may not be my equals in status, but as they are dependent on our family, it is incumbent on us to see to their needs. Visiting them affords my mother, sisters, and I the opportunity to come to know them and better understand how we might be of assistance." Elizabeth glared at Miss Bingley in challenge, and then added for Mr. Bingley's benefit, "I am not so skilled at knitting or needlework as I ought to be, but Jane has made some truly lovely infant clothes for several of the expectant mothers on our property. She is kindness itself." This had the intended effect. Mr. Bingley positively beamed at Jane, who was seated beside him, and the lady blushed most becomingly under her sister's praise and the gentleman's undisguised admiration. Elizabeth herself was the unknowing recipient of admiring looks from more than one quarter.

Wishing for her sister likewise to receive her due, Jane replied, "Lizzy is too modest. Though she may not always be the one to fulfill a specific need, she is uncommonly gifted at assessing the needs of others. Beyond addressing our tenants' material needs, her cheerful nature is a much needed balm for many of those who are struggling under the weight of difficult circumstances."

"Dear Jane, you are too good. You would paint me a saint. While I could never doubt your sincerity, I am certain our present company is very much aware of my deficiencies in character. My impertinence is too well known for me to pass myself off with any degree of respectibility, I am afraid," Elizabeth teased, drawing a barely perceptible "Indeed" from Miss Bingley, which the former politely ignored, though she smiled all the more sweetly at her harshest critic. Impertinent, indeed.

Elizabeth went on to ask Mr. Bingley a number of questions regarding his approach to crop rotation and other improvements he might consider. His responses were slow and thoughtful, and he often looked to Mr. Darcy for confirmation of his understanding on a key point.

"Do you take a great interest in estate management, Miss Elizabeth?" Mr. Darcy asked her after she and Mr. Bingley had canvassed a number of topics.

Before she could respond with what would no doubt have been a teasing remark designed to challenge the gentleman's opinion on what she was certain he felt was an unladylike pursuit, her cousin inserted himself into the conversation, "My Cousin Bennet has provided ample opportunity for Miss Elizabeth to satisfy her curiosity on a number of topics not traditionally in the sphere of womanly studies. Having no sons of his own, such license is understandable. One likes to have someone they can converse with on topics of mutual interest in the privacy of one's own home or with close acquaintances," Mr. Collins finished, clearing his throat and tugging at the cuff of his sleeve before redirecting they conversation.

Mr. Darcy noted that while on the surface, Mr. Collins little speech seemed to be in support of his cousin's interests, he seemed to be rather ill at ease with the topic in general. His closing remark held a certain ambiguity to it that the gentleman from Derbyshire found interesting, particularly in light of the slight shift in conversation following his disclosure. The clergyman's discomfort with his cousin's pursuit of knowledge generally considered to be under the male purview was not be unusual — if that was indeed what it was. He cast a sidelong glance at Elizabeth, but he could not detect any hint of her feelings regarding her cousin's speech.

Mr. Darcy's musing were brought to an abrupt end as Mr. Bingley called for his attention, the bemused smile on his friend's face suggesting that he may have had to repeat himself more than once, "I beg your pardon, Bingley. I must have been woolgathering. What was it you were saying?"

"We were just discussing my humble origins and your magnanimosity in taking a tradesman's son under your wing," Mr. Bingley replied.

"You have more than repaid me with your friendship, Bingley. No one can doubt your value to me," Mr. Darcy responded.

Turning back to Mr. Collins, with whom the inquiry evidently originated, Mr. Bingley continued, "I am fortunate that growing up my father insisted on my active involvement in his business. Though he long hoped to fulfill his dream of providing with me with the means of becoming a landed gentleman, he refused to allow me to be idle. Indeed, I am grateful that due to his influence, I am not at all averse to applying myself and getting my hands dirty, as it were. I am finding that many of the principles of proper management and business sense I learned in my father's shop are equally as applicable in running an estate, even if the situations themselves vary greatly. I am equally fortunate to have a true friend in Darcy, who has sacrificed his own time and leisure so that he might go over things with me in painstaking detail to fill in the gap in my experience and education." His features held just a trace of melancholy in recalling the elder Mr. Bingley. Miss Bingley blanched at her brother's open discussion of their family's roots in trade.

"Come, Charles. No one has any interest in such things. Let us talk of something else," Miss Bingley interjected, picking at a piece of lint on her dress so as to appear less concerned than she truly was.

"I hate to contradict a lady," Mr. Collins nodded apologetically at Miss Bingley, which went unacknowledged, "but I find examining our roots to be a profitable endeavor. I believe there is great value in remembering our history. Our past — both personally and as a family — can provide value perspective for the present and future as well as engender gratitude for the blessings that have come through own our hard work as well as the generosity of others."

"And what is your own history, Mr. Collins?" Mr. Bingley asked kindly.

Sitting up from his somewhat reclined position, Mr. Collins shared with his companions, "I was not born a gentleman, but as the nephew of a baronet on my mother's side, I was afforded a gentleman's education and thereby a profession that allows me to association with people of many different stations in life, including the landed gentry. Through my own studies and the recommendation of my uncle, I was able to secure a generous living that supports a lifestyle with many of the niceties afforded to a gentleman." He hesitated momentarily as though determining how he ought to continue before saying, "Though the circumstances may not seem entirely favorable to all those involved at present, I will eventually inherit an estate and become a gentleman in my own right. I am hopeful that I will eventually find a kind and generous gentlewoman willing to overlook my humble origins and find felicity in the marriage state." He smiled warmly at Elizabeth beside him, who beamed back at him in approval.

"Here, here!" Mr. Bingley cheerfully returned, "That is my hope as well!"

Mr. Darcy, for whom the exchanged glances between Mr. Collins and Elizabeth had not gone unnoticed, inquired rather bluntly, "Would you offer for a gentlewoman before coming into your estate?" It was badly done, and he knew it. But it could not be unsaid, and however he might try to convince himself otherwise, his fate hinged on the answer.

Elizabeth bristled slightly and was about to speak when Mr. Collins calmly answered,just a hint of challenge in his voice, "If the right lady comes along, I would. I would not wish to pin my hopes of marital felicity on my Cousin Bennet's demise. To do so would not be conducive to filial affection. I am in no hurry to inherit and wish my cousin every blessing of health and happiness. I am quite content in the office of a clergyman and can support a wife in modest comfort with my present living."

"Of course, Mr. Collins!" Miss Bingley said in the same affected tone she had used in her thinly veiled insults to Charlotte earlier, "Some lady will be quite fortunate to receive your addresses. Indeed, she could not do better than secure a honorable gentleman such as yourself." Charles cleared his throat uncomfortably and Mrs. Hurst nearly choked on her lemonade. Uncertain what his sister was about, Mr. Bingley shot Miss Bingley a warning glance, which she shrugged off languidly.

Elizabeth felt the slight, though she was not certain of its intent — indeed, only two of their party understood the mark. Unable to hold her tongue, she replied, "I believe you are correct, Miss Bingley. I have always felt that it is actions that are the measure of a man — or lady — not merely rank or status."

Miss Bingley chuckled mirthlessly, "My dear, Eliza, that may do well here in the country, but you must allow it would never do in town. Perhaps, not having a home in town yourself, you have been spared the necessity of bowing to the restraints and expectations of society. For those in the first circles, rank is rank and income — or lack thereof — cannot be overlooked. Being situated in society as we are, my brother and I, and indeed Mr. Darcy and his sister will not have the luxury to overlook such considerations." She concluded her observations with a pointed look toward her brother and Jane Bennet.

"I acknowledge that some consideration must be given to status no matter where one lives. One must have something to live on. It would be foolish to suggest otherwise. It would however, be unfortunate for anyone to marry with only material considerations in mind," Elizabeth paused here for emphasis, gazing intently at Miss Bingley, who pretended not to notice. "Rank and income have no bearing on character or temperament, which ought to be priorities in selecting a marriage partner. Even in cases where both parties are of excellent character and temperament, there is the question of compatibility and affection. It would be a pity indeed to make an excellent match by social standards only to be shackled for life to someone with whom there is no hope of mutual affection and respect." Elizabeth spoke with such a fierceness that her conviction as to the truth of her assertions could not be doubted. She was not playacting for anyone's approval.

"You wish to marry for love then, Miss Elizabeth?" Mr. Darcy inquired in an oddly husky tone.

"Yes, sir. Only the deepest love will induce me into matrimony," she replied with a hint of defiance.

"How quaint," Miss Bingley sighed, feigning boredom.

Feeling it best to separate her friend and Miss Bingley before the verbal sparring could escalate any further, Charlotte seized the opportunity to ask Elizabeth to join her for a stroll toward an overlook that promised a particularly fine prospect of the surrounding countryside. She begged the pardon of the remainder of the party, claiming her forthcoming departure and subsequent deprivation of her dear friend's company as her only excuse.

Charlotte took Elizabeth's arm and pulled her close as they put some distance between themselves and Mr. Bingley's churlish sister. They walked in companionable silence, one of them keeping her observations of the morning's conversation to herself and the other allowing her temper to cool after a hour of such unrelenting provocation.

The ladies soon arrived at the anticipated overlook. They found a fallen log and made themselves comfortable as they spoke of inconsequential things, avoiding the topics that begged to be canvassed.

"I had once thought autumn my favorite of the seasons," Elizabeth observed after a particularly long lull in their conversation, "The loved changing leaves and a certain promise of renewal to come. The air of anticipation has often left me breathless." She paused, leaving Charlotte to wonder at her silence.

"And now, Lizzy? You said you had once thought it your favorite. Have you had a change of heart?"

"I am uncertain. Perhaps it is merely because it coincides with several significant changes in our lives now, but I cannot help but feel unsettled. Rather than feeling hopeful in anticipation of coming changes, I find I am anxious. You are to London, perhaps to stay. Jane is likely to be married ere long," Elizabeth trailed off, gazing absently out over the sun-drenched meadows stretching to the horizon.

"And perhaps you will not be long behind Jane in reaching the altar?" Charlotte tread lightly.

"Charlotte—"

"I am not referring to Mr. Darcy, Lizzy, however sorely I am tempted to once again point out your stubbornness on that score," she shook her head as Elizabeth began to protest, "I refer to your cousin, Mr. Collins. There is a spark there, Lizzy. I believe he admires you."

"You may be right, Charlotte."

"And you, Lizzy? Do you admire him?"

"Yet another subject on which I am uncertain," Elizabeth sighed, picking up a nearby stick and tossing it out over the cliff before them, "He is amiable certainly, but I am not sure we would suit."

"You are convinced none would suit you."

"More likely it will be the other way around, Charlotte."

"Do not let the likes of Miss Bingley cast you down — nor any comparisons your mother may draw," Charlotte took Elizabeth's hand and squeezed it before dropping it again.

"How is it that you would hold out hope for me, but none for yourself?" Elizabeth turned to face her friend, her eyes brimming with tears.

"It is different for me. I am seven years older, and my prospects have never been as good as yours. Fear not, Lizzy. I will be satisfied in London, and you will eventually find a gentleman who will either rise to meet your exactly standards or so capture your heart as to overthrow them," Charlotte smiled affectionately at Elizabeth and began to rise, "Now, I must go check on Maria. I noticed before we left that your youngest two sisters and my brother had wandered off from the rest of our party. I imagine they quickly became bored of such serious conversation. Jane is there, but I believe she will have been much occupied with Mr. Bingley. Maria will not want to be left for long with so many with whom she is not well acquainted. It may be wise to locate the other three as well. Shall you join me?"

"I will join you shortly, Charlotte. I believe I will enjoy the view a little longer in solitude before reentering the fray," Elizabeth's impish smile revealed that her good humour had returned.

"Behave yourself, Lizzy. She may be your sister ere long," Charlotte teased, eliciting a roll of the eyes from Elizabeth.

Charlotte had been gone for several minutes when Elizabeth heard a twig snap along the path behind her. "Back so soon, Charlotte? Was the company too oppressive for you?" Elizabeth called out merrily before looking back over her shoulder. She blushed crimson and jumped to her feet as she caught sight of Mr. Darcy coming into the clearing.

"I cannot speak for Miss Lucas, but I find the company quite pleasing this morning," Mr. Darcy answered her wayward remark and offered her a stiff bow in greeting.

Regaining her composure, Elizabeth returned a quick curtsy, "My apologies, Mr. Darcy. I thought my friend had rejoined me as she has only just left my company."

"I am sorry to disappoint, Miss Elizabeth," he gave a wry smile, "I passed Miss Lucas on the path, and she indicated that the view at the end was particularly fine."

"It is one of my favorites," Elizabeth replied, returning to the seat nature had so generously provided.

"May I?" Mr. Darcy gestured to the spot on the log beside her, a request to which she nodded in acquiescence, if reluctantly.

"It is a fine prospect," Mr. Darcy ventured after several moments of silence.

"But nothing to Derbyshire, I'm sure." Elizabeth replied pertly.

Mr. Darcy considered her for a moment. Her chestnut curls took on a soft glow in the dappled sunlight of the clearing in which they sat. At length he quietly replied, "I am naturally partial to my home county, Miss Elizabeth. The peaks and woods of Derbyshire hold fond memories for me. This gives them an unfair advantage over other places. It does not, however, negate the beauty other counties have to offer. It simply means that none but Derbyshire provide the warmth of home for me."

"That will not do, Mr. Darcy! How am I to tease you if you insist on giving such a sensible answer?" Elizabeth laughed lightly. The gentleman merely smiled in response, searching for an appropriate response.

As the moments stretched on awkwardly, his mind wandered to the events of the preceding day. Shuffling his feet slightly, he tentatively asked, "Do you often climb trees, Miss Elizabeth?"

"Not that often, Mr. Darcy," she chuckled, "Why? Have I offended your gentlemanly sensibilities?"

"Of course not, Miss Elizabeth. Climbing trees is no evil in itself. My cousins and I could often be found dangling from the branches of one of the many fine climbing trees at Pemberley in our youth."

"I confess I find it hard to imagine you dangling from a tree branch at any age, Mr. Darcy." Elizabeth's eyes danced in merriment as she glanced at the proper gentleman beside her.

"Am I really so formal, Miss Elizabeth?"

"Until yesterday I had never seen you smile, sir. I had begun to imagine you born fully grown and with every proper refinement." She teased.

"I assure you that was not the case, Miss Elizabeth. My cousin Richard, in particular, assured that I found my way into all manner of mischief as a child. I have many fond memories of growing up in his company."

"I am glad to hear it, Mr. Darcy. Though I imagine that it has been quite some time since you have climbed a tree. You cannot feel it a proper diversion at this age."

"Are you so determined that I must find fault in your behavior?"

"Do you not? Your demeanor changed so decidedly once the initial shock wore off yesterday. I was certain you disapproved."

Mr. Darcy began to reply, but stopped himself.

"Out with it, sir. There is no need to prevaricate here."

"It was not your climbing a tree that shocked me, madam. It was only upon discovering that you had been hidden amongst the branches with an unmarried gentleman that I felt concern for your situation." Mr. Darcy had not meant to say anything about the matter, but his frustration at her willful misunderstanding got the better of him. The turn of her countenance at his chastisement caused him to immediately regret voicing these thoughts.

"Mr. Darcy," Elizabeth cut him off, her rising ire evident in her clipped tone, "What business is it of yours how I conduct myself?" She stood from their perch, and he quickly followed suit.

"I had not meant to suggest—" Mr. Darcy's response was slow and inarticulate as he searched for an answer that would not betray the nature of his interest in her affairs, but his failure to offer a suitable answer only angered her further.

"Are you my father?"

"Certainly not, madam."

"My brother?"

"I am not," he muttered, grinding his teeth in aggravation at her stubbornness and silently cursing his own inability to keep quiet on the subject.

"My husband?"

He started at her question. His gaped at her for a moment, unable to immediately answer as the sound of the blood rushing in his ears drowned out all else. Her husband. He was not her husband. He had convinced himself he could not be. But she would marry, and that man, whomever he might be, would have every right to check her behavior as he had attempted to do, to talk and laugh freely with her, to share every intimacy with the lovely, brilliant woman before him. He suddenly felt ill.

Elizabeth's ire wavered for but a moment as she watched the colour drain from Mr. Darcy's face, but the compassion that flickered within her heart for the man was quickly extinguished.

"Elizabeth—"

"Do not, sir!" Elizbeth hissed, her eyes ablaze with fury, "How dare you chastise me for climbing a tree in the company of a gentleman when you have now twice had the audacity to use my Christian name without my leave to do so. Mr. Collins is my cousin, sir. We were accompanied by my sister. However much my behavior might be frowned upon by the elevated ladies of your acquaintance, it was not a matter of gross impropriety as you suggest. Your familiar use of my Christian name, however, if overheard, could lead to speculation that would be detrimental to both of our reputations. Mine, most especially. If either of us is to be chastised for forgetting themselves, sir, it is you. I beg that you would refrain from repeating the offense and leave me to my own counsel."

Mr. Darcy drew himself up, his back rigid, his lips drawn in a tight line, "You are perfectly right, madam. You have my sincerest apologies."

"I would ask that you leave me, Mr. Darcy. We are alone here, and I will not have my reputation put in any further risk by your remaining any longer. You have made it perfectly clear that I am not handsome enough to tempt you even to dance. I can only imagine how much more unpalatable a forced marriage would be to you. Save yourself, Mr. Darcy, and leave me in peace." Elizabeth said with a quiet fierceness that spoke of her bitterness.

Mr. Darcy felt like he had been struck. She had heard him at the assembly. He had not time to register the significance of this revelation or make his retreat before Charlotte came upon them, shaking her head and muttering to herself. She stopped short when she looked up and observed the two of them locked in a heated gaze, her friend with her arms stubbornly crossed over her chest and chin raised defiantly, the gentleman looking a tad bewildered as he saw her approach.

Mistaking the cause of his bewilderment, Elizabeth rolled her eyes and sighed audibly, "Fear not, Mr. Darcy. As she was foolish enough to send you up the path where she knew I sat alone, Charlotte will hardly be announcing a compromise to the greater company." She gave Charlotte a severe look.

"No, of course not," Charlotte answered, properly chastised, "I beg your pardon, Mr. Darcy. I merely came to claim my friend for her sisters who are asking for her."

"Of course, Miss Lucas, Miss Elizabeth" Mr. Darcy gave a swift bow to the ladies, who returned curtsies of their own before they turned and swiftly made their way down the path.

"My gracious, Lizzy. Whatever happened between you and Mr. Darcy?" Charlotte inquired of her friend as soon as the two were far enough down the path that the gentleman might not overhear their conversation.

"Nothing of consequence, Charlotte. I merely let my temper get the better of me." Elizabeth replied curtly. She would not mention the gentleman's baffling use of her Christian name. He made no advances on her, for which she was grateful. But why take such a liberty in using her Christian name? Insufferable, confusing man.

Elizabeth sighed audibly and took Charlotte's arm, squeezing it affectionately, "I am sorry, Charlotte. I do not mean to be short with you. Whatever Mr. Darcy's offenses, you should not be subjected to my ire on account of them. I hope this outing has proved beneficial for Jane, otherwise I must rue the day I thought to suggest such a scheme. I am beginning to appreciate my mother's nerves," she laughed wryly, burying her disquiet under a facade of humour. Charlotte was not fooled, but she knew better than to press her friend to share a confidence she did not wish to share. "Now, tell me, were you merely rescuing me, or do my sisters truly require my presence?"

"The latter, I am afraid," Charlotte frowned. "When I returned to the others, Maria asked me to accompany her in seeking out your youngest two sisters. After some time searching, we came upon your sisters in a terrible argument. John was with them, though he seemed at a loss as to what to make of their hysterics. I could make little of what they said, so I told them to quiet themselves and not to move from the spot until I returned with you. I was confident I could address whatever tomfoolery John has gotten himself into, but I felt it would be better I had reinforcements where your sisters are concerned. I sent Maria back to the others to ensure no one else ventures over to where I left our wayward siblings until we can sort out what has happened."

"I applaud you for your quick thinking, Charlotte. I fear I am ill equipped to endure any more of Caroline Bingley's thinly veiled insults against my family this morning. Have you no idea of what has occurred?"

"I do not rightly know, Lizzy. I hope John has not been so foolish as to compromise one of them."

"I confess I think him a fool for following one or both of them without a more reliable chaperon, but worry not, Charlotte. My father will not force him to marry either of them."

"How can you be certain? Not that it would be so terrible to be sisters, of course, but John is but one and twenty with no means of providing for a wife."

"Trust me, Charlotte. He is safe."

Elizabeth and Charlotte quietly slipped past the area where Mr. Bingley and his sisters still sat with Jane and Mr. Collins, soon arriving at the copse of trees where the guilty parties awaited them. Lydia was perched on a large rock, plucking at the ribbon on her bonnet, which she had removed and held in her lap. She appeared bored, but otherwise composed. A particularly unladylike sniffle from her next oldest sister drew Lydia's attention, eliciting a roll of her eyes before she returned her attention to her bonnet, an action that hinted at her utter lack of concern over whatever it was that had so discomposed her sister. Kitty leaned against a tree a little further away with her back to Lydia, but Elizabeth could see enough of her face to tell that her skin had the tell-tale red blotches left in the wake of copious tears. John greeted his sister and Elizabeth as they approached, alerting his companions to their company.

Elizabeth wasted no time in inquiring as to what had taken place between the assembled parties. Both Lydia and Kitty began to talk at once, their volume rising as each attempted to talk over the other, gesticulating wildly. Elizabeth hissed a harsh "Be quiet!" to them as she looked back over her shoulder. Although the trees somewhat obscured them from view of the party still assembled on blankets nearby, they were still close enough to draw the others' attention. With some coaxing and several reminders to mind their volume, Elizabeth and Charlotte were able to piece together a somewhat coherent narrative through the sobs of one sister and the gloating of the other. It would seem that at some point Lydia had tired of the company and conversation and convinced John to take a walk with her. Kitty noticed their absence not long after and went in search of them. It had taken Kitty some time to locate her wayward sister and her would-be beau. When she had found them, they were in suspiciously close proximity. Lydia denied it was anything serious, laughing off her sister's accusations of catching them on the verge of a passionate embrace, but the deep crimson shade creeping up John Lucas's cheeks and his refusal to meet Elizabeth's eyes indicated that Kitty was not far from the truth of the matter. He muttered a half-hearted defense, but was quickly cut off by Charlotte who informed him he would have his say when they returned to Lucas Lodge and their father.

At length, Kitty's tears resumed. Lydia, seeming to realize that some remorse would be fitting, approached Kitty and placed her arm around her shoulders, "Come, Kitty. I do not even like John. You know I could not like a man without a red coat. I was merely bored and in need of amusement. No harm is done," she said lightly. John gaped at her, astonished at having been so ill used.

Kitty threw off Lydia's hand and rounded on her, "How dare you!" she screamed. Her tone was hysterical and she pushed Elizabeth off as well as she attempted to soothe and shush her. She jabbed her finger at Lydia's chest, shocking the young girl, whose eyes were wide in fright, "You always have your way, Lydia. Mama is forever taking your side against me. You have the best ribbons, the finest dresses, the most attention. Even so, we have always managed to work it out between us in the end. But this, Lydia? You knew that I liked him. You knew, and yet you would do this? And for your mere amusement, no less?" Here Lydia attempted a half-hearted laugh as though Kitty were playing some sort of choke, but another jab of her sister's finger quickly silenced her. "No, Lydia! You will not laugh this off as some sort of joke. I am done with you!" With these parting words, Kitty stormed off to join the rest of the company.

As Kitty passed her on the path, Miss Bingley vacillated between smug amusement at the spectacle before her and annoyance at being forced into such vulgar company. When Elizabeth started down the path and suddenly caught sight of her, she attempted to meet her eye, jutting her chin out and looking down her nose in triumph at the inferior country chit before her. Realizing that Elizabeth was looking past her rather than meeting her eye, she followed her gaze, turning to look back over her shoulder. The smirk quickly fell from her lips as she saw her brother still seated on the blanket with Jane Bennet, a tender smile gracing his features as he leaned toward her and reached up to remove a wayward leaf that had fallen in Jane's coiffure. Mrs. Hurst had fallen asleep where she sat and Mr. Collins was nowhere to be seen. They were too far away to hear Mr. Bingley and Jane's conversation, but such familiarity combined with the pink tinge to Jane's cheeks as Mr. Bingley spoke to her could not but raise alarm for the gentleman's sister. When Miss Bingley turned back to face Elizabeth, it was the latter who now wore a look of triumph. Narrowing her eyes at her adversary, Miss Bingley spun on her heels and hurried over to where her brother and Jane Bennet sat each consumed with the other.

Putting forth a performance worthy of Covent Garden, Miss Bingley convinced her brother that her present health required their immediate removal to Netherfield. Mr. Darcy and Mr. Collins soon rejoined the rest of the party, Mrs. Hurst was roused, and Mr. Bingley's footmen were called on to immediately begin packing the provisions to return to Netherfield. Mr. Bingley apologized profusely to his friends for such an abrupt departure and promised to send the carriage round to Lucas Lodge and Longbourn to return their belongings so that his companions might return home as unencumbered as they had come.

It was with mixed emotions that the party from Netherfield were bid farewell and the rest of the young people began their short journey home.

* * *

 **A/N: There is a lot going on in this chapter to move several key components of the plot along. I hope it's not too much. Again, this picnic has been a challenge, but my muse returned from vacation this week and things finally came together.**

 **Posting Schedule: Let's be real here. There simply isn't one. I genuinely hope not to go more than a few weeks without a post, but I am finding that it is foolish to make promise that time and inspiration have repeatedly conspired to overturn. I will tell you that one of my goals for this year is to complete this story. There is A LOT of ground to cover to make that happen. My goal is to write a minimum of 3,000 words per week REGARDLESS of what scenes those words may cover. This means that I may be writing a scene in London with the Colonel and Darcy, a proposal, or any of number of things already planned as inspiration arises for those scenes and dialogues. I will always come back to try to move the plot along so that I can post semi-regularly (the ping of my email notifications for new followers and reviews is a HUGE encouragement, afterall!), but I would prefer to know that progress is being made even if it is not always done chronologically. At some point we'll meet in the middle and end up with more frequent updates as a result. My combined birthday and Christmas gift from my husband is a three day writer's retreat at a cozy little vacation rental I've had my eye on. That will occur sometime in early spring, so hopefully that will be a productive few days to help us move things along.**

 **Reviews: I wish I had time to respond to all of you as I so appreciate the time you take to provide feedback and encouragement. Unfortunately my time is so very limited at present, so I have been opting to write rather than respond to reviews individually. I am sorely tempted to venture comments on some of them, but I'm afraid I will give away too much of what is to come. I will say that several of you are quite perceptive and very close to hitting on what I am trying to achieve with our beloved characters.**

 **Oops: As I reread the posted version (I do this because I invariably see mistakes I missed not five minutes before when rereading BEFORE posting - it's magic, I tell you!), I realized that I have somehow misplaced poor Mary in this chapter. Poor girl had a brief moment with Mr. Darcy and then goes MIA for the picnic. This will be fixed during later edits, but suffice it to say that her involvement will have no bearing on the plot for these events.**

 **Now, pretty please click 'Review" below and tell this tired mama what you think so I can have a little good cheer during a difficult week of potty training a two-year-old. ;)**


	11. Chapter 10

CHAPTER TEN

The officers had called at Longbourn the morning following the picnic. Mr. Wickham was in attendance, his handsome features and charming manners delighting more than one of the ladies. His attentions to Elizabeth became all the more marked when Mr. Collins was called away for a time to attend Mr. Bennet in his study. Mary, who quietly attended the conversation rather than reading as was her usual wont, noted that while Elizabeth appeared little affected by the preference given, the shift in attention was met with great indignation on Lydia's part and by some degree of relief on the part of Mr. Denny.

Mr. Wickham took the opportunity to renew his grievances against his childhood friend. Though Elizabeth did not share his obvious preference for their mutual company, she could not help but sympathize with a man who has been so injured by the same proud, disagreeable gentleman who had wounded her vanity and so thoroughly puzzled her in their ensuing interactions. Her quarrel with Mr. Darcy was still fresh in her mind — indeed, she had slept but little in the wake of such a trying day — and she was happy to accept any assurances that her harsh setdown of that gentleman had been well-deserved beyond even what his offenses against her had merited.

The officers' visit was cut short when Mr. Bennet and Mr. Collins rejoined the party in the drawing room, baring ill tidings of an approaching storm. The young men reluctantly took their leave and Longbourn was returned to the state of quiet unrest that had prevailed since the young people's return from the picnic the day prior.

A steady rain soon began to fall, increasing in intensity as the hour for dinner approached. As the Bennets and their guest gathered for their evening repast, Mrs. Bennet lamented the weather and the possible consequences to their plans for the ball should the rains persist, leaving the roads in poor condition. Lydia sulked as Kitty ignored all of her attempts to engage her in conversation regarding the officers' visit that morning. Mary observed, Mr. Collins admired, and Jane and Elizabeth attended to the conversation with varying degrees of attentiveness, each being lost in their own thoughts regarding the events of the last four and twenty hours. For his part, Mr. Bennet found quiet amusement in the manifold changes so recently wrought in the other occupants of his household. He was naturally curious as to the source of such varied changes in temperament, but he was wise enough to know better than ask a question that might disrupt the relative tranquility he enjoyed for the moment. He was certain that if anything of import had occurred, his cousin or second eldest would mention it in due course. For the time being, he was content to eat in silence and retire early to his study in the company of his books and a generous glass of port.

As it turned out, the rains did persist for yet another day. The inhabitants of Longbourn bore it as best they could — that is to say, not well at all.

* * *

The halls of Netherfield were quiet as morning dawned on the twenty-sixth of November. The ominous clouds and steady rains that had presided over the environs of Hertfordshire for the preceding two days had been replaced by faint sunlight peeking over the horizon. Mr. Darcy stood silently, hands clasped behind his back as he gazed pensively out the elegantly draped window in his bedchamber. In a few hours several of Bingley's men would head out to assess the roads to determine if they were passable enough that the ball might still go off that evening. The gentleman from Derbyshire was at odds with himself over the desired outcome. He had never looked forward to a ball, and one anticipated guest at this one in particular posed a serious threat to his self-possession.

 _"_ _Are you enjoying the view, Mr. Darcy?" Mr. Collins intruded upon the gentleman's solitude as he reflected on his argument with Elizabeth._

 _"_ _It is pleasant enough," Mr. Darcy replied curtly._

 _"_ _Have you happened to see my cousin Elizabeth? I thought I saw her head in this direction."_

 _"_ _You have just missed her."_

 _Mr. Collins noted that Mr. Darcy's already stiff posture grew still more rigid at the mention of his cousin, "And was she alone?"_

 _"_ _She was accompanied by her friend, Miss Lucas."_

 _Mr. Collins brow furrowed, "Miss Lucas came to attend to her sister not long ago."_

 _"_ _What is it you are implying, sir?" Mr. Darcy bit out, turning his imposing figure toward his inquisitor._

 _"_ _I have a vested interest in my cousin's well-being, sir."_

 _"_ _Have you formed an attachment with your cousin then, Mr. Collins?" Mr. Darcy asked, his expression not nearly as impassive as he desired it to be._

 _"_ _That is hardly any of your concern."_

 _"_ _So you have not."_

 _"_ _Why do you ask, Mr. Darcy? Are your own intentions inclined in that direction? I had heard you were engaged to your cousin, Miss De Bourgh." Mr. Collins had an inkling that this was not expressly true, but the gentleman rankled him and he desired to return the favor._

 _"_ _I would thank you not to bandy about my aunt's fanciful notions, Mr. Collins."_

 _"_ _Discussing it with one of the principle parties is hardly bandying it about, Mr. Darcy."_

 _Mr. Darcy's jaw tightened visibly as he struggled to respond to the man before him. He could not blame Mr. Collins for his concern. Would he not have been equally as protective had a gentleman taken such liberties with Georgiana? Heavens, in the wake of the near disaster at Ramsgate there was no telling how he might act with even so slight a provocation. Even if he was willing to put a name to the intolerable tightness in his breast that threatened to steal away his very breath, he could not justify it. He had declared to himself time and again that he could not have her. He must cede his position and remove himself from this wretched county as soon as it could be arranged._

 _"_ _I have no designs upon Miss Elizabeth Bennet — honourable or otherwise," Mr. Darcy said with a firmness that he did not feel._

"Your trunks have been packed in preparation for tomorrow's departure as requested, sir." Mr. Darcy was drawn out of his private musings upon being addressed by his valet.

"Very good, Davis. Did you happen to see the volume my cousin sent me amongst the books as you were packing?"

"I did not, sir. I had assumed you kept it out for the carriage ride."

"No. I must have left it in the library."

"Shall I fetch it and pack it with the others, sir?"

"Do you happen to know Miss Bingley's whereabouts at the moment, Davis?"

"I understand from the housekeeper that she is quite busy this morning with final preparations for the ball to be held here this evening," Davis replied in a disinterested tone, quickly schooling his expression to hide the smirk that threatened to betray his amusement at his master's obvious distaste for that lady's company.

"She is well distracted then."

"I believe so, sir."

"Very well. I shall retrieve the volume myself," Mr. Darcy replied, running his fingers through his hair absently, much to chagrin of his valet, who winced almost imperceptibly as he watched his work of the morning undone as it had so often been in recent weeks. He was thankful that they were in an out of the way country village and not in town where his counterparts would no doubt spread about that he was losing his touch.

Having dismissed his man, Mr. Darcy made his way down the grand staircase of Netherfield and slipped quietly into the library. He could hear Miss Bingley's strident tones reverberating down the hall as she upbraided one of Bingley's servants. He closed the library door behind him with a faint click, wondering at how the unfortunate gentleman who ultimately found himself leg-shackled to Miss Bingley would ever manage to keep a loyal staff. He often felt it incumbent upon him to offer some recompense to his staff when the lady accompanied her brother on a visit to Pemberley — and they were as loyal as they came.

Turning his mind to the task at hand, Mr. Darcy surveyed the sparsely furnished room, seeking the volume his cousin Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam had given him just before his departure from London. He had made multiple attempts to read it during his stay at Netherfield so that he might discuss it with Richard upon his return to town, but he and Miss Bingley had been at cross purposes in this endeavor. The one opportunity he had to read without that lady's interference had been the morning before Miss Bennet and Miss Elizabeth's departure from Netherfield. It had been in this very room where he spent half an hour of silence in Miss Elizabeth's company. He had looked for the volume that morning thinking he left it in the library the evening before, but his search was cut short when Miss Elizabeth had looked up from her book, eying him curiously. Realizing he had attracted her notice, he had selected a nearby volume and seated himself promptly so as to avoid engaging in conversation.

It was during these reflections that Mr. Darcy happened across the volume in question. There, on the small table next to the settee where Miss Elizabeth had sat reading on her last morning at Netherfield, sat the very book he sought. He lifted it gingerly from the table, lightly fingering a small scrap of green ribbon that marked one of the pages. He recognized the ribbon as being the same that had adorned one of the gowns she wore during her stay. She had been reading his book that morning. He had not had the opportunity to add his book plate before leaving town, so she could not have known she was depriving him of his chosen volume. Admittedly, Bingley's library left much to be desired. Still, he was surprised at her choice. No, that was not accurate. He could not be surprised at her interest in weighty topics that generally went overlooked by her sex. No, he was not surprised. Rather, he was impressed. He stood staring at the volume for a moment longer before snapping it closed and striding from the room in search of his valet.

 **A/N: Just a quick segue chapter to serve the author's yet undisclosed purposes. ;) Next up: The Netherfield Ball. Please review!**


	12. Chapter 11

**Another short one - one of two covering the Netherfield Ball. More detailed author note at the end. For now, let's get to it.**

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Although Mr. Collins' movements in the dance did not suggest significant experience in the art, he was attentive to both the dance and his partner. His ease and general cheerfulness seemed to please Elizabeth, whose smiles and laughter illuminated the ballroom of Netherfield more brilliantly than the hundreds of candles that washed the room in a soft glow of artificial light. She was positively radiant.

With great effort, Mr. Darcy tore his eyes away from the vision on the dance floor and began a slow circuit of the room, occasionally nodding in greeting to one or another of Mr. Bingley's guests. Having put some distance between himself and the place that Miss Elizabeth Bennet and her partner occupied in the set, he happened upon Miss Mary Bennet standing off to herself observing the dance.

"Good evening, Miss Mary," he said by way of greeting, coming to stand beside her.

"Mr. Darcy," she gave him a slight curtsy before returning her gaze to the dance floor.

Their previous conversation still fresh in his mind, Mr. Darcy attempted to enter into conversation with the young lady, "Are none of your sisters keeping you company this evening?"

Mary looked at him curiously before answering, "No, sir. They are all dancing at present. I usually bring a book to occupy myself as I seldom dance. They do not usually trouble themselves with entertaining their more reticent sister." She finished with a self-depreciating smile.

"And yet you have no such volume in hand this evening?" his reply came out as a question.

"I have recently come to realize that I ought to exert myself in company rather than taking refuge behind the pages of a book."

"And what progress are you making?"

"Very little, I am afraid," she chuckled mirthlessly.

A short silence ensued as both of them struggled to think of a subject they might discuss with some degree of comfort.

"Mr. Darcy," Mary turned to him, "please do not feel obligated to keep my company in my sisters' absence. I am perfectly content to observe in solitude. I am certain there are other guests who would be far better company than myself."

Mr. Darcy met Mary's gaze and considered her for a moment. "Miss Mary, would you be so good as to honor me with the next dance?"

Mrs. Bennet would have been mortified had she observed the unladylike way in which her middle child gaped at the distinguished gentleman. "Mr. Darcy, I … I had not … you truly do not have to …"

"Miss Mary," Mr. Darcy interrupted her stammered response, "Like you, I have recently had it brought to my attention that I ought to take the trouble of practising exerting myself in company more often. Perhaps we might aid one another in the endeavor? I am perfectly sincere in my request. If you are not so inclined, however, I will not press you on the matter."

His manner was still stiff and formal, but the soft smile the graced his lips won her over, "Yes, Mr. Darcy. I will dance with you." Having observed the gentleman's obvious admiration for her elder sister, Mary held no misapprehension with regard to the gentleman's intentions, even if he did seldom dance. Still, it was an honor to be asked to stand up with him — a distinction that would go far in forwarding her efforts to engage with other members of the assembled party.

Mr. Darcy excused himself, promising to collect her at the start of the next set. True to his word, he soon returned, taking her hand in his and leading her to a place near the middle of the set. Elizabeth, who was conversing with her own partner further up the set, turned and caught a glimpse at the pair of them, her eyes widening as she regarded her sister and Mr. Darcy with astonishment. Mary merely smiled at her sisters' response, turning her attention back to her partner as the orchestra played the opening notes of the dance.

Despite his general reluctance to do so, Mr. Darcy soon proved himself a superior dancer. He moved through the dance with grace and poise. Miss Mary Bennet was far less self-assured, having seldom stood up in company, but the quiet words of encouragement that punctuated their otherwise comfortable silence did much to bolster her confidence. As the final strains of the music faded, Mr. Darcy bowed, Miss Mary curtsied, and the pair departed the dance floor with a hint of brotherly affection on one side and the warm glow of gratitude on the other.

* * *

Mary Bennet smiled as she felt Elizabeth come along beside her, gently linking their arms and giving her a sidelong glance. "What kept you, Lizzy," she whispered conspiratorially.

Elizabeth arched an eyebrow in question at her sister, "Have you been expecting me then?"

"You have come to ask how I happened to be dancing with Mr. Darcy."

"Perhaps I simply wish to enjoy a few moments company with my sister," Elizabeth replied, her gaze traveling lazily over the dancers and other guests assembled in the ballroom.

Mary turned to face Elizabeth, gently tugging on their linked arms so that they were facing each other. Mary's expression mirrored the arched brow and smirk her elder sister so often presented in company she found particularly amusing. Elizabeth could not help the grin that formed at the realization that her sister was using her own wiles against her.

"Very well then, Mary. I can see that the improvements you have so recently been undertaking will not be entirely in my favor," Elizabeth conceded, "How came you to be dancing with that odious man?"

Mary furrowed her brow at Elizabeth choice of adjectives to describe her former dance partner, "You misjudge him, Lizzy."

Elizabeth huffed in annoyance at hearing an echo of Charlotte's reproofs from her younger sister.

"He is shy, Lizzy. Like me, he is uncomfortable in company."

"A man of his standing and intelligence, Mary? A gentleman of the ton?" Elizabeth's incredulity at seeing her sister standing up with Mr. Darcy was nothing to her disbelief at this revelation.

Mary looked around warily as her sister's unrestrained outburst drew some curious glances from a few of Mr. Bingley's other guests nearby. "Not everyone is as adept as you are at conversing and meeting new people, Lizzy," Mary replied in a more subdued tone, hoping her sister would follow her example so as not to attract an audience, "Mr. Darcy and I spoke of it on the way to Oakham Mount on the day of our picnic. We agreed that you would advise us that we would not be so indisposed to such engagements were we to take the trouble of practising more. Mr. Darcy sought me out this evening to make good on such advice as we thought you might give. He encouraged me throughout our dance, and his attentions brought other gentlemen's notice to me as well. I have had two additional offers to dance since I stood up with him. He has done me a kindness, Lizzy. I cannot allow you to call him odious when I know it to be untrue," Mary defended.

Much to Elizabeth's chagrin, the man himself approached the pair of them before she could formulate an adequate response to such an unexpected disclosure. He bowed in greeting and inquired whether Elizabeth was already engaged for the supper set. His disappointment at discovering she was to dance the supper set with her cousin — their second of the evening — was palpable. He schooled his features quickly, however, and instead secured her hand for the next. Mary gave her sister a beseeching look as her own partner came to collect her and Mr. Darcy in turn led Elizabeth to a vacant place in the set.

Elizabeth struggled to rein in her thoughts and compose herself as she gazed across the set at the striking figure Mr. Darcy presented in his dark blue coat and intricately embroidered gold waistcoat. The hue of his coat combined with some unspoken struggle gave his piercing blue eyes a particularly stormy aspect as he absently surveyed the room. She observed him as he clenched and unclenched his right hand as it hung by his side, belying his otherwise calm demeanor. She wondered if he was even aware he did it as he stopped abruptly when their eyes met and he realized she was watching him. They exchanged polite smiles as the musicians began to play, thus beginning a dance composed of simple steps and unguarded conversation that neither of them would soon forget.

 **A/N: I am still working through voice and POV issues. A lot of that will likely have to be revamped in edits when the story is complete and I can sit down and go through it as a whole. I'm finding it rather difficult to be consistent when I'm writing in bits and pieces over such a long period of time.**

 **For this chapter, I originally planned to cover the Bennets' arrival at the ball and an abridged version of the conversation between Denny and Lizzy regarding Wickham's absence as well as the first dance between Collins and Lizzy. I am finding, however, that there are a lot of extra details (whether in Jane's original work or in between major scenes for my FF piece that may simply be too cumbersome to include. Do I really need to touch on why Wickham isn't there if Darcy and Lizzy will end up discussing him during their dance anyway? Likewise, if Lizzy is to have a second dance with Collins, is it really necessary to cover both in excruciating detail rather than give the quick outside glimpse at the first as I've done here and reserve dialogue and details for the second (realistically the more significant of the two as it shows a decided preference)? Real questions, dear readers. What are your thoughts? You may reserve your judgement for after the second portion of the Netherfield Ball if you like, but I would truly love to hear from you as I work to refine my art.**

 **Up Next: Darcy and Lizzy dance, Collins and Lizzy have their second dance of the evening, supper shenanigans, and an interesting discovery on the carriage ride home.**

 **PS: I've recently started playing catch up on OUAT with my teenage daughter. There is some fantastic FF out there for that series as well. If things don't work out with Mr. Darcy, I would happily settle for Killian Jones. ;)**


	13. Chapter 12

CHAPTER TWELVE

Despite the inordinate amount of time he had devoted in the last four and twenty hours to arranging to his satisfaction what he would say to Miss Elizabeth Bennet when they arrived at this moment, standing across the set from her in the dimly lit ballroom, Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy felt ill-prepared for the reality of what would likely be his last evening in company with the fine-eyed beauty before him. He could hardly look at her as he struggled to reign in his emotions. She was a vision in her cream-coloured frock adorned with simple but elegant lace and delicate flowers gracing her intricate coiffure — a far cry from the gaudy hues, heavy beading and ridiculous plumes that their hostess preferred. Elizabeth's natural beauty was enhanced by the simplicity of her attire, and it rather made Darcy wonder at how so many gentlemen of the first circles could be so taken in by what amounted to strutting peacocks, disguising passable looks and small minds behind elaborate plumage. Indeed, how had he himself been so blind? As the music broke through his ruminations and drew his attention back to his partner, he found her regarding him with an unreadable expression. He offered her a tentative smile as the steps of the dance commenced, praying that he might during the course of the dance find the words to make amends for his earlier missteps.

If he had hoped the his partner might oblige him by providing an opening for conversation, Mr. Darcy was to be sorely disappointed. Elizabeth seemed to be deep in thought herself. He longed to know what occupied her thus. After struggling during the first several movements to adequately compose himself — an endeavor made all the more difficult by the feelings the fleeting touches the dance required with his partner stirred within him — he finally found his voice, "I thank you, Miss Elizabeth, for the honour of your hand this evening. I have long desired the privilege of dancing with you."

The lady bit her lip to hide a smirk at this opening, and when they next drew near she offered a biting retort, "On the contrary, Mr. Darcy. One might suppose it is I who am in _your_ debt. For I understand it is a favor you rarely bestow, whereas I myself am fond of dancing and had the unhappy alternative of sitting out the remainder of the evening had I refused you." Seeing the gentleman flinch and his cheeks tinged pink at her obvious displeasure, she sighed audibly and continued, "I beg your pardon, Mr. Darcy. I should not have said that. It was unpardonably rude."

He relaxed slightly with her apology and replied, "I do seem to have that effect on you." This response drew the sweet sound of laughter from her lips.

"I am not entirely sure whether I should be offended or relieved at that response, Mr. Darcy," Elizabeth smiled at him as he met her gaze as the steps of the dance separated them. When they drew together once more, he was relieved that she appeared to have decided in his favor. "You have been unaccountably kind to my sister Mary this evening, Mr. Darcy. On her account, I am inclined to grant you a reprieve."

"Your sister's company was reward enough in itself, Miss Elizabeth. I will, however, gratefully accept the offered reprieve."

"Did you find you had much in common with my sister, Mr. Darcy?"

"She reminds me very much of my sister, Georgiana. Miss Mary is perhaps a little more devoted to her religious studies than my sister may claim to be, but they are both of a quiet, serious disposition."

"Not unlike yourself, sir?"

"Miss Mary and I do seem to have a mutual aversion to being much in company, yes," Mr. Darcy conceded. Recognizing the beginning of a teasing reply as Elizabeth's eyebrow arched in response, he added, "I have since been informed that I might be less averse to engaging with the company were I to take the trouble of practising more often."

"Sage advice indeed, Mr. Darcy. It sounds remarkably familiar."

"I thought it might," he offered her a look of such tenderness, only catching himself as he saw the rosy hue creeping up her cheeks.

An awkward silence descended on the pair as they completed the remaining movements in the first dance in their set. Gazes met and hands pressed together as the dance required, but neither seemed immediately inclined to speak to the other. Mr. Darcy tugged absently at his cravat as they waited for the opening of their second dance. He felt all the weight of what still remained to be said, the pressure of dwindling moments in which to offer the necessary apology having more to do with the tightening in his throat than the immaculately knotted neckcloth his valet had fashioned for the evening.

"Miss Elizabeth, there is something I particularly wish to speak with you about," he began. Elizabeth, whose hand was presently clasped within his own, visibly stiffened as she turned her face to look at him with widened eyes. Realizing his mistake in wording, he hurried on, "That is, I find that I owe you an apology."

Here the dance required them to separate, but she seemed to have regained her composure when they returned to places across from one another in the dance. She nodded at him, silently urging him to continue. "On the day of the picnic you mentioned a remark I foolishly made at the assembly in Meryton when I first arrived in the neighborhood," Mr. Darcy recommenced.

"Mr. Darcy, this is hardly necessary," Elizabeth began to protest.

"I beg your pardon, Miss Elizabeth, but it is imperative that I rectify my error," he responded, and following her nodded assent, he continued, "You were right to call me out on my behavior. Not only must I apologize for my ungentlemanly behavior, but I feel I must also clarify that aside from being rude and offensive, what I said was a gross falsehood. I was not in the best of spirits the evening of the assembly. While that in no way excuses my behavior, I wish you to know that the sole purpose of the remark was to dissuade Bingley from his attempts to engage me with the company. In truth, I had not even spared a glance in your direction until after the conversation was at its end. Only then did I realize my error. I do not wish to create any misunderstandings between us, Miss Elizabeth, however, at the risk of appearing too forward, I feel it incumbent upon me to say that far from being merely tolerable, you truly are all that is lovely." He spoke with conviction, and he saw the recognition of the truth in his words in her countenance.

Miss Elizabeth Bennet was rarely one to suffer from loss of speech, but this was one such occasion. At length he heard her respond as they drew close in the dance with a quiet "thank you" that barely reached a whisper.

After a moment of silence that stretched on painfully for the gentleman, he inquired as to whether Elizabeth was well, to which he received the slightest of affirmations.

"I apologize if I have said anything amiss, Miss Elizabeth. It was not my intention to make you uncomfortable."

She smiled at this and after successfully recovering herself answered that he had not offended her, which caused the gentleman to smirk and the lady to chuckle softly. "You have given no _new_ cause for offense at present, Mr. Darcy," she amended her response, "I find I am simply having trouble making out your character."

"Is that so?"

"Quite."

"Perhaps I might be able to lend my assistance?" he answered lightheartedly, the weight of the apology no longer hanging over him.

Elizabeth considered him for a moment before replying, "My sister Mary seems convinced that you are a kind, decent sort of man, and your apology just now would seem to indicate she is not far from the truth. However, another gentleman, much more intimately acquainted with you and your family seems to be of an entirely different mind on the subject."

 _Wickham._ Mr. Darcy carefully schooled his expression, fully aware of the scrutiny he was under as Elizabeth awaited his response. "Might this other _gentleman_ be Mr. Wickham?" he asked in an even tone, attempting to appear less disconcerted than he felt.

"The very same," she replied, her eyes not leaving his face except where the movements of the dance required.

"My dealings with Mr. Wickham are not a subject appropriate for discussion in a crowded ballroom."

"Do you fear public exposure, Mr. Darcy?"

"May I ask how long you had known him before he saw fit to air his personal affairs?"

"You did not answer my question, sir."

"How long, Miss Elizabeth?" He was met with the same steely gaze and upward tilt of her chin he had seen during their argument on Oakham Mount. He sighed, and after turning away from her with the steps of the dance and returning once again to be met with her silence, he assumed it had not been very long at all. With this in mind, he spoke again, "Consider, Miss Elizabeth, is this the behavior of a gentleman? You are an intelligent young woman. I would have hoped you would not have been taken in by his charm and skill for flattery. He preys on the kindness of strangers. He is not a man to be trusted."

She huffed audibly at his speech, fire alight in her eyes, "Perhaps he sought to forestall any attack on his own character, sir."

"You must see how weak that argument is in light of the fact that even now I refuse to bandy about the private matters between us. I had not even made any mention of the man until faced with his unjust accusations."

"Will you answer his accusations then?"

"I regret that I cannot. As I said before, it is not a subject appropriate for such a public place," he replied tersely.

"You so readily withdraw your offer to further elucidate your character when confronted with something that threatens to tarnish your sterling reputation?"

"Perhaps mine is not the only reputation at risk, Miss Elizabeth," he grit his jaw in only he could divulge the whole sordid truth to her, but it was not possible. Georgiana's reputation was at stake. He would not risk exposing his sister merely to gain the good opinion of a woman he barely knew, no matter how much he admired her.

Mr. Darcy was spared the need to defend himself any further as the dance then came to its conclusion. Elizabeth offered the barest of curtsies, not even waiting for him to reciprocate with a bow before she disappeared into the throngs departing the dance floor. Whatever outcome he had imagined from the conversation, this had not been it. He had not meant to insult Elizabeth, but he seemed destined to do so whenever he opened his mouth of late. As he watched her depart, he silently cursed his childhood playmate and the lingering effects that unworthy cur was having on his relationships with the women in his life — not that he could rightly count Miss Elizabeth Bennet as such a one. He had made his apology. His obligations there were fulfilled. On the morrow he would take his leave of Netherfield, rejoin his sister in London, and do his best to forget all he left behind in Hertfordshire.

* * *

Elizabeth escaped the ballroom as soon as propriety allowed following her dance with Mr. Darcy. Feeling unequal to the company, she sought out a quiet place to compose herself. The closest balcony being on the opposite end of the crowded ballroom, she instead sought sanctuary in a small parlor off the main ballroom Miss Bingley had set aside for the ladies to refresh themselves and adjust their finery. She opened the door and slipped into the room only to find it already occupied by her mother and Lady Lucas. Before she could retreat, Mrs. Bennet looked up from the lively conversation she was engaged in with Lady Lucas.

"Oh, Lizzy!" Mrs. Bennet motioned for Elizabeth to join them near the fire on the other side of the room.

Elizabeth reluctantly acquiesced, joining the ladies to discover what news it was that her mother appeared so eager to bestow upon all who would listen.

"I have just heard from Mrs. Goulding that she overheard Colonel Forster telling…" Mrs. Bennet droned on, detailing the channels through which her news had traveled, channels which Elizabeth had no doubt had done much to alleviate the report of all but the merest semblance of truth. "…that Mr. Wickham did indeed arrive at Netherfield but was refused admittance. I cannot understand what Mr. Bingley could mean by it. I understand he was quite unceremoniously turned out. Only imagine what a disgrace it must have been to be thus rejected in front of the entire neighbourhood — and all of his friends, too!"

Elizabeth's attention had been captured at the mention of Mr. Wickham. She regarded her mother seriously, "Are you certain, mother?" Her question, however, fell on deaf ears. Mrs. Bennet had already moved on from pining over the loss of Mr. Wickham as a dance partner for her daughters to regaling Lady Lucas with her thoughts on the much-anticipated nuptials of her eldest. It was a topic of which she never tired.

Finding the parlor could not offer her the respite she desired and her presence no longer being necessary to her mother, Elizabeth rose to return to the company. She nearly ran headlong into Miss Bingley, who appeared to have been standing in the shadows just inside the room. Mrs. Bennet's general noise level being what it was, Elizabeth had little doubt that the entire conversation had been overheard.

Miss Bingley was quick to cast aside any doubt she might have had, "My dear Eliza," she greeted, the shadows cast about the dimly lit room doing nothing to soften the sharp angles of her face as she smiled condescendingly down at Elizabeth, "I do hope you are not too disappointed that Mr. Wickham did not gain admittance. I assure you his absence is hardly worth noting. He is, after all, merely the son of the late Mr. Darcy's steward. The truly shocking bit of news is that he could have believed himself worthy of the company at all," and with a pointed glance down at Elizabeth attire and across the room toward her mother, she turned to leave, but not before adding, "Some people simply do not know their place."

Elizabeth Bennet stared silently at Miss Bingley's retreating form as she quit the room, returning to her other guests in a swish of skirts without affording Elizabeth an opportunity to respond to her barbed comments. _Oh, Jane. I do not envy you your future sister._

After giving Miss Bingley several moments to put some distance between them, Elizabeth slipped back in, quickly locating her elder sister near the punch table. She slipped up next to her quietly, linking her arm and squeezing it affectionately, "Oh, Jane," she sighed as she looked out over the dancers and other guests conversing nearby.

"Are you well, Lizzy?" Jane asked, furrowing her brow in concern.

Elizabeth quietly divulged the information regarding Mr. Wickham, though she left out any mention of Caroline Bingley's biting commentary as she did not wish to burden Jane with it at present, "Has Mr. Bingley made no mention of the incident, Jane?"

"He has said nothing of it to me, Lizzy. He must have had a very good reason to refuse Mr. Wickham."

"He ought not to have been invited if only to be made a spectacle of upon accepting."

"I am sure it was not as bad as all that. I am quite sorry for Mr. Wickham's trouble, but I am certain Mr. Bingley would not intentionally make a spectacle of another gentleman, nor allow his staff to do so."

"Considering my source — and hers — you are probably right, Jane. I cannot make any sense of it, though."

"Oh, Lizzy…" Jane appeared to suddenly recollect something.

"What is it, Jane?"

"While Mr. Bingley did not mention the incident this evening, he did mention earlier this evening that he has lately come to believe Mr. Wickham is not a trustworthy man. We were standing near Mr. Denny, and Lydia had been asking after several of the other officers who did not appear to be in attendance this evening."

"Does Mr. Bingley know Mr. Wickham himself?"

"I do not believe so."

"Then he has had his information from Mr. Darcy. I should have known this was his doing. Hateful man."

"Lizzy…"

"Nevermind, Jane," Elizabeth tilted her head across the room to where Mr. Bingley was advancing toward them. "I am very sorry to have brought up such a disagreeable subject on an evening during which you ought to be doing naught but enjoying yourself. Mr. Bingley is looking for you. I will leave you to him and hope that at least one of us will enjoy her evening."

"You dance the next with Mr. Collins, do you not?" There was something more to the question than what was immediately evident on the surface.

"Our second, yes," Elizabeth arched her eyebrow as she added, "and no further observations on that from you. I shall hear enough from mama as it is, I am certain."

Jane smiled her agreement and merely added, "Well, do try to enjoy yourself, Lizzy."

"I shall, to please you."

As Mr. Bingley arrived to claim Jane's hand for the supper set, followed not far behind by Mr. Collins seeking out Elizabeth, Jane turned back to her sister once more, "I do wish, Lizzy, you would attempt not to be so difficult to please for your own sake as well as mine." She left her younger sister with a soft smile before moving off toward the dance floor with her partner.

* * *

Mr. Collins was met with a tentative smile as his cousin took his offered arm and allowed him to lead her to a vacant place in the set then forming on the dance floor. As he turned toward Elizabeth to speak, he noticed her attention was drawn elsewhere in the room. Following her gaze, he saw Mrs. Bennet standing nearby in close conference with a number of other neighborhood matrons. Elizabeth's mother seemed exceptionally pleased with herself, and her gaze did not leave the pair of them as she spoke excitedly to her companions. Returning his gaze to the lady on his arm, Mr. Collins observed her chewing on her lower lip and taking a rather keen interest in the ballroom floor.

"Cousin?" he spoke softly, halting their progress toward the other couples lining up for the dance and turning her so she was facing him.

"My apologies, Mr. Collins. What did you say? I am afraid I was not attending," Elizabeth replied, finally lifting her gaze to meet the gentleman's eyes.

He smiled at her reassuringly and squeezed her hand, "Worry not. There was nothing to attend. I am merely concerned at your apparent uneasiness. Has your mother's scrutiny caused you concern?" Elizabeth's gaze followed his back to where Mrs. Bennet still watched them with rapt attention.

"It is nothing, sir," she replied, turning as though to move toward the other dancers.

"Cousin, I may not have been raised a gentleman, but I am familiar enough with rules of society to know that my asking you to dance a second with me this evening shows a degree of preference that could set some tongues to wagging. I will not deny that it is my intention to show such a preference, but I could take no pleasure in a dance that cost you any degree of comfort. If you desire it, we could instead find a suitable position to observe your sisters dancing as though that were our intended destination all along."

Elizabeth looked from her cousin to the dancers nearly all now assembled on the floor, carefully weighing the decision before her. Turning back to meet his inquiring gaze, she gave him an appreciative smile. "It has been a trying evening, cousin, but it has been none of your doing. I believe a dance is just the thing to distract me from those little irritations that have beset me this evening. Let us join the others as I see the musicians are getting ready to begin."

Mr. Collins sighed in relief and gratefully led her to one of the few remaining places in the set.

The opening steps and turns of the dance having been completed, Elizabeth began to relax into the movements. Never one to remain downcast for long, she was determined to cast aside her earlier vexations and focus on enjoying the remainder of her evening.

"Mr. Collins, I do apologize for being such a disagreeable partner thus far. I am determined, however, to start afresh. Do tell me, have you had a pleasant evening, sir?" Elizabeth's renewed spirits elicited a broad smile from her partner.

"I have indeed, Cousin Elizabeth. I have been well entertained. Mr. Bingley is an excellent host, and his sister even deigned to acknowledge me in passing," he grinned mischievously following this remark, and his own laughter joined that of his cousin, whose eyes twinkled with shared delight at the expense of their hostess. "Truly though," he continued, "I am surrounded by good company and am presently dancing with the most delightful woman in the room. I have no cause to complain." He made no effort to conceal his genuine admiration as he held Elizabeth's gaze, and he hoped she would see that he was offering her more than just pretty words.

The tinge of pink adorning Elizabeth's cheeks and her hesitancy in answering his little speech led Mr. Collins to believe that she understood him, however, he also felt he was very likely venturing into dangerous territory. He had been long enough in residence at Longbourn to understand the pressure Mrs. Bennet placed on her daughters with regard to matrimony. He would not add to that strain unnecessarily by pressing his suit prematurely. Like Elizabeth, he hoped for a love match. He had no desire to obtain a wife through coercion. With this in mind, he endeavored to steer the topic of conversation toward more neutral territory, an effort that seemed to be met with much gratitude by his cousin as it spared her the necessity of responding to his compliments.

"I find my days in your company are numbered, dear cousin. I will be departing for Hunsford the day after tomorrow."

"So soon?" She inquired, surprised at this revelation, "I had thought you were with us for another week complete."

"Ah, so it was. However, your father has since invited me to return for a few days at Christmas. I am not certain it will be possible, but if I am to have any hope of spending the festive season with family, I must return to my parish and attend to some business there in preparation for a second leave of absence."

"What of your uncle the baronet, sir?"

"Are you wishing me elsewhere for the Yuletide, cousin?" he teased, eliciting a grin from his fair cousin.

"Nothing of the sort. I am merely curious how your illustrious uncle and cousins in town will take to being put off for such lowly country cousins."

"You do not give yourself enough credit, Cousin Elizabeth. Besides, my uncle's health will not allow him to partake in many of the festivities of the season, and my cousins in town have other interests that far outweigh a visit from me. I have plans to see my uncle after Easter in any case."

"Well then, I hope you are able to join us. How will you spend the remainder of your visit?"

"I believe your father has plans for much of my time, but I would be glad for an opportunity to explore the countryside a little further should you be inclined to honour me with your company."

"I would be delighted. I should warn you, though, that we must keep our feet solidly on the ground in our future rambles," she smiled softly here as Mr. Collins offered her a nod of understanding, "I quite forgot myself on our previous excursion. It is nothing against you, of course, Mr. Collins. I may be able to get away with such childish exploits with my sisters with little more than a passing remark, but it was pushing the bounds of propriety for me to suggest we climb a tree together. I hope you can forgive me for dragging you into my own folly."

"There is nothing to forgive. I have heard enough on that score myself to be well aware of my mistake. It is I who owe you the apology. I should have considered your reputation before my own selfish amusement. I became caught up in the moment. In the future, I shall exercise more restraint. I may not _be_ a gentleman yet, but I assure you I know how to act as one." He replied with great solemnity.

"I stand by my earlier assessment that what one does is a far better indicator of class and character than birth alone," she smiled up at him as she spoke. The implied compliment caused the gentleman to beam most becomingly, leading her to add, "And though it is not to be repeated, I cannot in truth say that I regret our little adventure. It was a most delightful afternoon."

"Nor do I. It will remain one of my fondest memories of my time in Hertfordshire."

Here their conversation ended along with the movements of the dance. Mr. Collins offered his arm to Elizabeth to escort her into the dining room where he saw her seated before going to collect their plates.

* * *

Elizabeth should have known her endeavor to ignore her mother — and Mr. Darcy, for that matter — could not last. As she sat awaiting Mr. Collins' return, her quiet conversation with her neighbor to her left was interrupted by Mrs. Bennet's lively effusions regarding her good fortune in having both Jane and Lizzy soon married off. Elizabeth cringed and dared to peek over at the table behind them. Much to her chagrin, Jane was seated just behind them with Mr. Bingley, and Mr. Darcy was on his other side closest to Mrs. Bennet. Jane and Mr. Bingley seemed adequately engrossed with one another not to overhear — or at least to ignore — the conversation taking place at the next table. Mr. Darcy, however, had his head turned in just such a way and his jaw set so rigidly, that Elizabeth had no doubt he was hearing every word. At least Mr. Collins had not yet returned from obtaining their food.

Leaning toward her mother as much as she could without being rude, Elizabeth attempted to draw her attention. Once she had secured it, she encouraged her to lower her voice — a futile attempt.

"Mama, Mr. Darcy can hear you," she tried to convey her message in a loud whisper to prevent the gentleman from overhearing, however, her mother's request for her to speak up made this attempt similarly ineffectual.

"What do I care for what he thinks, pray tell?"

"Mama, you will not recommend yourself to Mr. Bingley by insulting his friend."

"Nevermind that, my dear," Mrs. Bennet waved off her concerns with a napkin she held loosely in her hand. If Elizabeth thought this was to be the end of the conversation, she was sadly mistaken. Mrs. Bennet proceeded to admonish her to put herself forward more, to smile and entertain the gentlemen so that she might finally catch herself a husband. Mortified, Elizabeth attempted to further stifle her mother's effusions. It occurred to her that Mrs. Bennet was well in her cups, having overindulged on Mr. Bingley's fine wine. It was unfortunate that she had not Mr. Hurst's money — or the fact that he was a gentleman — to allow others to overlook her overindulgence and the resulting borderline vulgar behavior. She was troublesome enough without a drop of wine, but now she was in quite a state. Mr. Bennet was no where to be seen, so there was little Elizabeth could do.

"Lizzy," Mrs. Bennet sought her daughter's attention once more.

"Yes, mama," Elizabeth sighed.

"You ought to spend less time in your books and scampering about the countryside so that you might catch yourself a husband. No respectable man wants a bluestocking hoyden of a girl for a wife. Mr. Collins will do very well, and you will then have Longbourn eventually, sparing a place for your mama and any unmarried sisters. It is time you thought of your family."

Perhaps seeing the panic rising in Elizabeth, Lady Lucas chose that moment to have mercy on her by drawing Mrs. Bennet's attention elsewhere. She knew Lady Lucas could be every bit as petty as her own mother, but at that moment, Elizabeth owed her a debt of gratitude.

Mr. Collins chose that moment to return, apologizing profusely for taking so long to return with her food. He was blissfully ignorant of the cause of Elizabeth's distress, and she endeavored to keep it that way by plastering a smile on her face and graciously accepting her plate along with his apology. She chanced a quick glance back over her shoulder toward her sister, but instead of finding Jane and Mr. Bingley — who had apparently gotten up at some point during Mrs. Bennet's humiliating display — she met the pensive gaze of Mr. Darcy. Sighing in frustration at having had such an audience, she returned her attention to her supper partner.

The remainder of the evening was equal parts pleasure and mortification. Mary and Kitty Bennet were seated at supper with some of the more genteel officers of the regiment. Mr. John Lucas was conspicuously absent — Lady Lucas's scowl at the mention of him and a quick glance in Lydia Bennet's direction ample evidence that it was likely not his choice to be excluded from the evening's entertainment. Lydia herself seemed to have learned nothing from the episode on the day of the picnic. If anything, Kitty's refusal to acknowledge Lydia in the wake of their falling out resulted in Lydia's attempts to garner attention to become _more_ desperate. She frolicked about with one or another of the officers, with no regard for propriety. Mr. Denny kindly aided Elizabeth in her attempts to subdue Lydia, offering her a place beside him as some of the ladies began to perform. Mr. Denny seemed nearly as disappointed as Elizabeth when their efforts were unsuccessful.

Mary herself had to be pressed to exhibit, and she would only do so after their hostess, Mrs. Hurst, and several other young ladies had performed. Instead of her usual difficult pieces, she selected a simple but pretty air to entertain the company. Kitty did not play herself, having never taken the trouble to learn, but she happily obliged her sister Mary by turning the pages for her during her turn to exhibit.

Elizabeth saw little of her father during the course of the evening. He exited the card room only for supper and stayed just long enough to hear his middle daughter play afterward. Despite Lydia's antics and his wife's exuberance continuing to play out in his brief foray into mixed company, he did nothing to curb their behavior, choosing instead to mock them openly where others did so less conspicuously.

* * *

At length, the festivities drew to a close in the early hours of the morning. Elizabeth secured a position in the first conveyance back to Longbourn — the Bennet carriage not being large enough to accommodate the entire party, thus necessitating acceptance of Mr. Bingley's offer of his own carriage to avoid a prolonged stay for half of their party as they awaited the return of their own equipage. Naturally the honour of riding in Mr. Bingley's carriage was claimed by Mrs. Bennet for herself and dear Jane. Lydia preferred to avoid being in close confines with Kitty or Elizabeth — whose rebukes she had not appreciated in the least — and so stayed to wait on the Bingley carriage with her mother and eldest sister. Despite his disappointment at losing Elizabeth's company earlier than he had hoped, Mr. Collins obligingly offered to escort the remaining ladies home. Elizabeth was thus joined in the Bennet carriage by her father — who could not keep away from the comfort of his own book room and fire a moment longer, even at risk of leaving Mrs. Bennet to her own devices — along with Mary and Kitty.

As soon as their driver set off toward Longbourn, Elizabeth let out a breath she had not realized she was holding. She leaned heavily against the side of the carriage, hoping to catch a few moments of sleep. As she shifted in the seat, a heavy object fell from the seat beside her. Groaning tiredly, she leaned forward to retrieve the object from the floor of the carriage. Examining the item, she found it to be a study leather-bound volume, though she could not make out the title in the dim light of the carriage.

"Your book, I presume, Papa?" she held the book out for her father to take.

Mr. Bennet waved her off lazily, "It is not mine, child. Pray, who would bring a book to a ball, Lizzy?" His question elicited a slight cough from Mary, who sat across the carriage. "Well, except for you of course, Mary. Perhaps the volume is yours?"

"I brought no book tonight, Papa," Mary replied quietly.

"It is a mystery then," Mr. Bennet said with little true concern for the matter, "Though if I had chosen to escape the company this evening in favor of a good book, I would much rather have stolen away to Mr. Bingley's library to see what he has on hand rather than revisiting a volume from my own book room."

"I am afraid you would have been quite disappointed, Papa," Elizabeth explained, "I found only one volume of interest during my stay. The previous owners do not appear to have kept up the library — or likely simply left very little behind. Mr. Bingley has not added much to it since he came to the neighborhood."

"Ah. My time was better spent elsewhere then."

"I suppose it was," Elizabeth attempted to keep the bitterness out of her tone as she considered where he had been most needed and yet decidedly absent that evening.

"Perhaps the volume belonged to another guest and was placed in our carriage by accident," Kitty supplied.

"You may be right, Kitty. We can make inquiries at Netherfield on the morrow to determine where the volume ought to be returned." Mr. Bennet answered before drifting off to sleep.

Once at Longbourn, Elizabeth carried the volume upstairs with her for safekeeping until it could be returned to its rightful owner. She set it down on her side table without a second glance and set about preparing for bed. The book was the furthest thing from her mind as she slipped under the well-worn counterpane and left all the cares of the world behind as she quickly fell into a heavy slumber.

*THL*

 **A/N: Oh my, how does Mr. Darcy manage to dance so well with one foot stuck in his mouth at all times? Poor man. *smh***

 **So, I have GOOD NEWS and BAD NEWS ...**

 **First, the BAD NEWS: I am quite sorry to have kept you waiting nearly two months for the conclusion of the Netherfield Ball. Sadly, I can tell you with some degree of certainty that I will not be posting the next chapter until late May.**

 **GOOD NEWS: The REASON I will not be posting until late May is that this chick has a solo (!?) writing retreat scheduled for the latter half of May. I will have an entire three day weekend to write without kids or husband or housework all in a fantastically scenic location (with great independent coffee nooks - because, hey, it's the PNW!) that promises to inspire the creative juices. The next few weeks I will be focusing on reading two books on life in the Regency era, doing research on some specific topics for scenes I already have in mind, and really fleshing out my outline so that I am organized and ready to WRITE. WRITE. WRITE! I hope to get enough knocked out to come back and begin a regular posting schedule beginning in June (tentatively every two weeks). I am so incredibly excited to have the opportunity to get away for a few days and focus on my writing, and I cannot wait to share the product of that investment with you all!**

 **As always, I LOVE to hear your feedback, so click 'REVIEW' below and let me know your thoughts. Take care and we'll pick back up in May!**


	14. Chapter 13

**Well, hello there :) Fresh off the presses from my weekend on Whidbey! I'm not 100% sure the very beginning of this chapter won't be changed up a bit, but it's a good enough go for my rough draft. Regular posting schedule for the foreseeable future will be every other Saturday (so you may expect the next chapter up on Saturday, June 3rd). I hope your weekend has been a beautiful as mine - and if not, I hope this makes it a little better. Cheers!**

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

For the second time in little more than a week, Jane Bennet awoke to find her sister still abed. On this occasion, however, the prior evening's festivities having kept the Bennets from their beds until well into the morning hours was ample enough reason to explain Elizabeth's departure from her usual habit of rising early.

"Lizzy?" Jane whispered, unsure of whether her sister still slept.

Elizabeth stretched her limbs and sleepily turned to face Jane. "Good morning," she smiled lazily.

"Mama has given Sarah and Nelly the day off as reward for their efforts yesterday. Would you be so kind as to help me dress?"

"For you, Jane, anything."

"I shall keep that in mind, Lizzy, but I simply wish you to help me dress and perhaps pin up my hair. I shall save my more rigorous demands for another time," Jane teased.

"As though you have ever demanded anything from anyone in your life," Elizabeth laughed as she slipped out of their shared bed and sidled over to where Jane was standing, having already risen and selected a gown.

The sisters helped one another dress and then moved to their shared vanity where Elizabeth insisted Jane be seated first so she could brush out and pin up her hair.

"And how did you like the ball, Jane?" Elizabeth inquired as she pulled the brush through Jane's golden tresses.

The brilliant smile Elizabeth detected by way of Jane's reflection in the mirror was answer enough.

"I liked it exceedingly well, Lizzy. Caroline did such a fine job in planning a splendid evening."

"Indeed, but that is not what I was asking. How was your dear Mr. Bingley?"

"He is all that I would wish him to be, Lizzy, as you know. He did say he would be departing for town on business today, but he promised not to be away longer than strictly necessary."

"How unlucky that he should be called away immediately following his own ball, but I daresay he will not be gone long. I do hope you have given Mama some warning, for I expect she will be anticipating a call quite soon."

"Why should she, Lizzy?" Jane asked, but she was met only with an arch look from her sister. "Very well, I had planned to mention it over luncheon in any case."

"I hope he was not discomfited by Mama's exuberance last evening. She was in quite a state at supper."

"Fortunately we sat down some time before her, and once we finished I was able to invent some excuse for Mr. Bingley to escort me to speak with another guest across the room."

"Well, it all turned out in the end then. Your escape from Mama's proximity was well timed, I assure you. I am glad that one of us had an enjoyable evening."

"Did you not have a good time, Lizzy?"

"I had my moments," Elizabeth offered Jane a soft smile but would say no more on the subject. She did not wish to detract from Jane's pleasant memories of the ball by drawing attention to her own wretchedly confused thoughts on the events of preceding evening.

As she put the finishing touches on Jane's simple coiffure, Elizabeth stood back to allow her sister to see the results of her work.

"It is lovely, Lizzy. Thank you." Jane smiled at her sister affectionately through their reflection in their vanity mirror. "Shall I help you with yours now?"

Here Mrs. Bennet could be heard calling for Jane with her characteristic urgency.

"I thank you, no," Elizabeth replied, "I shall manage on my own and be down presently. I am sure Mama cannot spare you another moment when there is so much to be discussed regarding a certain gentleman we all know."

Accepting her sister's teasing with her usual grace, Jane took Elizabeth's hand and squeezed it affectionately. She again offered her thanks and a sweet smile before departing to join their mother.

Elizabeth sat down at the vanity as the door softly clicked closed behind Jane. She took up the brush and began to pull smooth strokes through her own chestnut locks as she considered her reflection in the mirror before her. Her forehead wrinkled as the array of thoughts that had so discomposed her the evening prior returned in full force now that she did not have to put forth effort to engage her sister.

These thoughts — occupied as they were by two gentlemen in particular — led her down an uncomfortable avenue of self-reflection. That she had behaved badly — yet again — with regard to Mr. Darcy, she knew full well. His reasoning with regard to Mr. Wickham's divulging such private matters so early on in their acquaintance was sound. It was not so much his argument but his apparent allusion to her failure in discerning it herself that had led her to become so piqued. Mr. Darcy rankled her beyond reason. She could not understand why he ignited such a passion in her. Hateful man. He was infuriatingly difficult to make out. His reserve and apparent desire to keep everyone at arm's length contrasted so sharply with the brief glimpses she had gotten of a man of more substance and warmth. But those glimpses had been of short duration before the mask was affixed firmly back in place. Perhaps this was why he had gotten under her skin so easily. She was a naturally curious creature, and her inability to solve the riddle that was Mr. Darcy of Pemberley — indeed, his own refusal to shed light on his character and motivations — simply nettled her more than it ought. As for Mr. Wickham (a third gentleman in the fray, as it were), she could not make up her mind with regard to him. She could not bring herself to confront him — indeed, Mr. Darcy had given her nothing with which to contradict his own assertions. Whatever his motivation in revealing his history with Mr. Darcy on so slight an acquaintance, she could not address it. She would merely have to watch him closely to determine if he might be trusted. Should he give her any reason to doubt him, she might concede the point in Mr. Darcy's favor. Otherwise, she must think of them much the same as she always had.

Mr. Collins was another matter altogether, and one she could not so easily dismiss. That he cared for her was now readily apparent. Her feelings for him were more uncertain. She could not deny he was a handsome man. Perhaps not as handsome as Mr. Darcy, but then he was certainly the more amiable of the two. He had a delightful sense of humour that was well-suited to her own love of laughter. He was kind and wise, and in many ways he challenged her — such as with the advice he had offered Mary on their walk to Lucas Lodge and unwittingly bestowed upon her as well. But love? These traits combined to make him a most agreeable companion, but a partner for a lifetime? She could not claim to love him, this she knew.

She knew to some degree where her hesitation lay. Her own observations told her that he had been more than a little taken aback at her ready knowledge of the estate and other traditionally masculine subjects, but she could not say whether it was merely surprise or disapproval he felt. She declared her desire for a love match readily, but what she truly desired was a loving marriage in which she was a true partner with her husband in all things. Certainly there were some arenas more suited for a man, just as there were those to which a woman was naturally predisposed, but to deny a woman knowledge and a voice in those affairs that affected her and her family seemed archaic to her. But that was the way of the world — the world in which she lived, certainly. But a man who truly loved her would not wish her to diminish her, surely?

With these thoughts still echoing in her mind, Elizabeth placed the last pin in her hair to secure the simple twist she had devised to forestall her mother's criticism of her wayward curls. As she examined the finished product in the mirror, she happened to catch the reflection of her bedside table and the volume that still lay where she had placed it the prior evening.

Rising from her seat at the vanity, Elizabeth went over to retrieve the volume. Turning it over in her hands, she chuckled in amusement upon realizing it was the very volume she had been reading in the library on her last day in residence at Netherfield during Jane's illness. A collection of first-hand accounts of the Peninsular War taken from the journals of a number of soldiers and citizens of those locales ravaged by war, it was just such a volume that she was curious if her future husband — whomever he might be — would approve of her reading. Her father's indulgence she could count on, but she felt that perhaps the reasoning for that was not so much forward-thinking as it was a lack of desire to put forth the effort to check her, as was evidenced in his behavior toward his wife and younger daughters (Jane, never behaving in such a way as required checking, was of course excluded from this).

Elizabeth opened the leather-bound volume and carefully turned the pages until she found the place she had left off. Seating herself on the bed, she resumed her reading. Some time later raised voices in the hall brought her back to the present. Pulling out her handkerchief, she dabbed at the tears that had stained her cheeks as she read about the hardships of military life, loved ones left behind, and the tragic toll the war had taken on those who fought it and the lives of the people who lived in those countries where it was being waged. It was so easy to find glory and triumph in war from afar when one was so untouched and mercifully unscathed by it. Certainly, the blockade had caused the inhabitants of England no end of troubles, but separation from the ongoing battles by the sea and countless miles insulated them from the true horrors of war. Somewhat miraculously, none of the local gentry of her acquaintance had yet experienced the loss of a son to Napoleon's forces — a rarity for the times they lived in as few families were untouched by such losses. Ignorance certainly was bliss, but was it wise? Reverently closing the book and replacing it on the table, she was thankful that she might now easily be able to keep the misplaced volume until such a time as Mr. Bingley returned and it could be restored to its rightful owner.


	15. Chapter 14

**A/N: Two days later than anticipated, but here we are. Just a note regarding our dear heroine. The action for my variation begins the day following Jane and Elizabeth's return from Netherfield - November 18th. With the conclusion of this chapter, we are at approximately November 29th - so less than two weeks has elapsed in our story. It is rare that human nature allows one to make a swift departure from strongly held beliefs, prejudices, attitudes, etc. Even in the original, it takes Elizabeth months (and more than one evidence of Darcy's goodness) to realize how wrong she was and to revise her way of thinking toward Darcy (and likewise for Darcy in his own transformation). Much of that takes place off screen, but Austen did not indicate either of them truly did a 180 immediately with the first bit of evidence contrary to their initial believes. It takes time, and rather a bit of heartache, for them to realize they're being idiots with regard to one another. Read: Cut Elizabeth some slack. She's had a crazy two weeks. And that's all I'll venture to say on that matter.**

 **This one is more or less a segue to get us where we're going, and next (June 17th-ish) we'll venture to London to see what's going on there with the Darcys and Bingleys before returning to Longbourn for some red coat action and very soon afterwards, the Christmas Season in both locales in later chapters.**

 **CHAPTER FOURTEEN**

Mr. Darcy looked himself over with a critical eye as he gazed into the mirror in his room at Netherfield.

"Is anything amiss, sir?" Davis inquired, noting his master's apparent displeasure but unable to discern anything out of place in Mr. Darcy immaculate riding apparel.

Mr. Darcy made no reply. As the silence stretched on, Mr. Darcy's man saw fit to clear his throat audibly.

Roused from his abstraction by his valet's pointed gesture, Mr. Darcy at length responded, "My apologies, Davis. Were you saying something?"

"I only inquired as to whether you are satisfied, sir."

"Yes, of course, Davis. You may go."

"Very well, sir."

"Oh, Davis," Mr. Darcy halted his valet's departure before he could reach the door leading to the adjoining dressing room.

"Sir?"

"What was your success in the task we discussed yesterday?"

"It was done as you asked, sir."

"Very good."

"That does call to mind, sir," Davis began, reaching into his coat pocket and closing the distance between them, "I thought you would not want to part with this as well as the volume itself."

Mr. Darcy held his hand out to accept the offered object from his man. Davis moved his hand away, revealing a delicate green ribbon. Mr. Darcy furrowed his brow and looked up from the bit of finery to find a barely concealed expression of amusement on his valet's face. "What is the meaning of this, Davis? Surely you must know it is not mine."

"Of course not, sir, but I thought you might like to have it all the same," Davis offered what might have passed as an innocent smile, had Mr. Darcy not suspected his valet to be at cross-purposes with him.

"I —" Darcy tried to form a denial, but the words died in his throat. Davis quirked a rather impertinent eyebrow at his master, awaiting the rest of the unfinished statement.

"I thank you, Davis," Mr. Darcy finished lamely, slipping the talisman into his own pocket and turning from his man in what Davis knew to be a silent dismissal. He would leave his master alone with his thoughts while he prepared for their imminent departure and hope that in time he might come to his senses.

* * *

Mr. Bingley and his friend had not been gone above an hour the day following the Netherfield ball before Miss Bingley was rousing her sister and brother-in-law and ordering the staff to see to it that their belongings — including those her brother had left behind — were packed and a carriage readied for their departure. She likewise instructed the housekeeper to prepare to close up the great house in anticipation of a long residence in London. Her demands were met with grumbling in more than one quarter as the staff had scarcely slept following the festivities of the evening prior, but none were foolish enough to let that lady hear them gripe. In truth, they would be glad to see the back of her, however pleasant her brother had been.

The news of Caroline Bingley's departure — or perhaps rather that of the doubtful nature of her brother's return — was not met with such pleasure in other parts of the neighborhood. The receipt of Miss Bingley's letter at Longbourn created an unprecedented uproar. Jane Bennet's solemn recitation of its contents might have been bourn with graceful disappointment in any other household, but the news that the whole Netherfield party had by then departed, and without any intention of returning, tore asunder all of Mrs. Bennet's dearest wishes for her eldest daughter (and, indeed, herself). It was therefore met with hysterics the likes of which even the occupants of Longbourn had never seen, heart palpitations that might have convinced even Dr. Jones of Fanny Bennet's imminent demise (had she allowed him to be summoned), and at length, Mrs. Bennet retiring to her own bedchamber. Her removal might have been welcome had she not insisted upon Jane waiting upon her. Elizabeth insisted that she would wait upon their mother instead, concerned that their mother's insistence on revisiting the cause of her misfortune would only dampen Jane's spirits further. Jane, dutiful daughter that she was, would do it, though.

In this, Elizabeth found an ally in Mr. Collins. He was of one mind with her with regard to Miss Bingley's lack of true affection for Jane. He himself could not help but feel some resentment on behalf of his cousin at Miss Bingley's cruelty in suggesting that Mr. Bingley was attached to another. He affirmed Elizabeth's belief that Mr. Bingley must be in love with Jane. Why would he carry on so otherwise?

Elizabeth communicated these observations to Jane in the few moments her elder sister could spare away from their mother and added to them her belief that Mr. Bingley would return to Netherfield ere long. But Jane, unable to believe her friend capable of such treachery, declared that it was unlikely. She begged Elizabeth to leave it be as she heard quite enough on the subject from their mother. Elizabeth complied, but she could not be satisfied. She was determined to see her sister and Mr. Bingley reunited and had only to ascertain how it might be best managed. For the time being, however, Jane Bennet bore her disappointment in melancholic silence.

* * *

The remainder of Mr. Collin's visit at Longbourn was divided between the master of the estate, who had quite come to think of him as a son, and tentative efforts to forward his suit with Elizabeth. Time devoted to the former was largely spent going over estate business, discussing books the pair had both read, and engaging in rather lively games of chess. As for Mr. Collins' pursuit of his fair cousin, he had determined that he must continue to exercise restraint. He was by now certain of the state of his own heart, but Elizabeth seemed as of yet uncertain of her own regard for him. That she liked him, he was certain, but beyond that he would not venture to guess. She had herself declared her intention of marrying not but for the deepest of love, and to rush headlong prematurely could prove a fatal blow to the desire of his heart. He would and must be patient.

In the meantime, true to his word, he joined Elizabeth each morning on her country rambles. Mary and Kitty served as chaperons, maintaining a respectable distance to allow for fulfillment of their duties, but otherwise leaving their elder sister and cousin to converse in relative privacy.

The final morning of his residence at Longbourn, the subject of conversation turned to Mr. Collins' uncle and cousins in London. "I hope you shall be able to return to celebrate Christmas with us, cousin," Elizabeth said, noting the hopeful smile her remark elicited from Mr. Collins, "for I should very much like to introduce you to my Aunt and Uncle Gardiner. I believe you and my uncle will get on quite well."

"I look forward to meeting them, as I do any relation of yours," Mr. Collins answered her.

"I cannot decide whether to commend you for your kindness or scold you for attempting to win me over with flattery, sir," Elizabeth chuckled, "for I am well aware that you have personally witnessed the antics of some of the more ridiculous of my family members during your stay at Longbourn. It cannot always be a pleasure to meet with such characters."

"Ah, but one always finds such relations endearing when they have not been so averse as to invade one's own lineage." He smirked.

"How ungallant of you, Mr. Collins." She returned his smirk with one of her own before continuing, "Particularly as you have an advantage over me."

"Have I?" He inquired with some curiosity.

"Indeed. For you have had the opportunity to meet many of my relations while I know nothing of yours. Tell me, would I find your uncle the baronet and your cousins as endearing as you find some of my kin?"

Mr. Collins appeared thoughtful before responding somewhat vaguely, "Endearing, no."

Elizabeth looked over at her cousin expectantly, waiting for him to continue. Catching her gaze, he smiled ruefully and sighed. "I am quite fond of my uncle. While he is not given to overt displays of affection — a trait not uncommon to those of his rank — he has been quite generous in his care for me despite having no obligation to see to my education or establishment in orders. He is rather a staunch adherent to the strictures placed upon those moving in the first circles, and my eldest cousin is just like his father in that respect. It makes my uncle's support of me all the more exceptionable, but I must say that with him I have never been made to feel the distinction of rank as I have with my cousins."

"You do not think I would like them?"

"In our short acquaintance, cousin, you have impressed upon me your preference for persons of substance over those with more superficial achievements. My cousins — and my uncle, if to a lesser extent — place a rather high value on appearances. Unfortunately, I am less certain of their true character perfectly lining up with the impeccable facade they present to the rest of society."

"I should think I would like your uncle if only for his kindness to you, Mr. Collins. As for your cousins, I will not cast judgment before we have been rightly introduced. I would reassure you, however, that your wild country cousin is capable of some semblance of decorum when properly pressed." Elizabeth cast him a sideways glance.

"Please do not mistake my meaning, Cousin Elizabeth. I have no doubt of your ability to move with grace in whatever society you are called to navigate. It is rather — well, let us just say that your skirmishes with Miss Bingley may well appear as child's play in comparison to the daggers my cousins might throw." Mr. Collins replied, brow furrowed in contemplation.

Elizabeth observed her cousin as he remained lost in his own thoughts for several moments. She found it curious that he seemed so preoccupied with how she would receive his family — or perhaps it was how they might receive her. She did not believe his own opinions would be so easily swayed by family whom he clearly had some reservations about himself. However, her own uncertainties regarding Mr. Collins' stance on her wide range of interests came readily to mind. With a certain hesitation uncharacteristic to her, she inquired, "Is there anything in particular, cousin, that you believe would put me at odds with your relations? Perhaps —" but she was unable to finish her question as Mr. Roberts came riding up alongside them on the road.

"Good day, Mr. Roberts!" Elizabeth called out, surprised that her conversation with her cousin had so engrossed her for her not to have heard his approach.

"Good day, Miss Elizabeth," he returned her greeting and likewise greeted her two younger sisters before turning to Mr. Collins, "I apologize for the interruption, sir, but the master requires your attendance on a matter of business."

"Now?" Mr Collins inquired, reluctant to cut short his conversation with Elizabeth.

"I am afraid so," Mr. Roberts answered, a hint of understanding in his expression.

"Shall we all turn back then?" Mr. Collins asked of the ladies.

With some regret at losing his company, Elizabeth declared her intention of calling at Lucas Lodge as she expected Charlotte to have by now returned from her trip to London. Mary and Kitty, equally desirous of calling on Maria Lucas, expressed their intention of joining her. The young people thus parted ways, the ladies continuing on down the lane toward Lucas Lodge and Mr. Collins joining Mr. Roberts, who had by now dismounted, on his way back to Longbourn.

The last few hours of Mr. Collins' first visit to Longbourn swiftly drew to a close. Mr. Bennet kept him occupied for much of that time, and Mrs. Bennet monopolised much of his attention at supper and afterwards in the drawing room. He and Elizabeth did not have the opportunity to continue their earlier conversation. The following morning they parted ways with fond farewells and hopeful anticipation of another visit ere long.

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	16. Chapter 15

**CHAPTER FIFTEEN**

"I see no point, Caroline, in procuring a house here in town for such a short duration. It is an unnecessary expense in any case as we may be perfectly comfortable here with Louisa and Hurst. Why must we revisit this same conversation time and again?" Mr. Bingley addressed his sister with something bordering on annoyance. The longer his business in town stretched on, the more his patience was tested. The unexpected arrival of his sisters and the news that Caroline had taken it upon herself to pack his things and order Netherfield closed up entirely would have provoked a man of lesser endowment with said virtue.

"But Charles," Caroline said with some exasperation, having been at the task of convincing him of the necessity of such a step for some days and not the least bit amused at his unusual degree of stubbornness regarding the matter. She glanced over at an armchair adjacent to a window where Mr. Darcy sat apparently engrossed in some documents his friend had asked him to look over for him. Satisfied that he was occupied, she lowered her voice before continuing, "You know very well that with Louisa now increasing and feeling very poorly, she will be returning to Yorkshire before the season commences. Hurst is likely to go with her, and we cannot very well stay here once they are gone."

"Had you not intended to accompany Louisa to be of some assistance to her?" Mr. Bingley inquired. Neither he nor his sister caught the faint snort that was quickly stifled with a forced cough at the other side of the room.

"Dear Charles, what could Louisa possibly need with me at name of Hurst's estate in Yorkshire? I had much better stay in town. Besides, who will serve as your hostess in my absence?"

"Ah, well, as to that, the only hostess I shall be in need of will be at Netherfield when I return to Hertfordshire in a few days time. So I still find myself at a loss as to why you should think accommodations in town to be necessary."

"You cannot seriously mean to spend the entire season rusticating in Hertfordshire," Caroline returned in a scathing tone.

"Caroline—" Mr. Bingley began, but was unable to finish whatever argument he had formed.

"There is nothing for us in Hertfordshire, Charles. I am convinced the neighborhood will have forgotten us entirely by now. We have been away for nearly two weeks, and still I have had no response to any of my kind inquiries after our supposed friends there," Caroline lied, watching carefully for any hint of weakening of her brother's resolve.

"Two weeks is not so long a period to go without receiving correspondence, is it?"

"Perhaps not among gentlemen, but for those of the gentler sex — and who have done their own duty by their friends in initiating the correspondence, I assure you it is." Caroline heaved a great sigh, "I was certain dear Jane at least would write, but I was clearly mistaken in thinking our relationship more than a temporary acquaintance. It appears we were nothing more than a passing fancy to be enjoyed and quickly forgotten. It is disappointing, of course, but these things do happen."

"You seem to imply we were taken advantage of, Caroline. I cannot believe that. Our neighbors in Hertfordshire were kindness itself. Miss Bennet in particular was very attentive."

Caroline, not being gifted with the same virtues so generously bestowed upon her brother, was quite out of patience with him. She knew full well that her brother's return to Hertfordshire would not only put him in the way of the Bennets, but it would also very likely remove her from the society of Mr. Darcy as he was unlikely to accompany them with his sister and soon several other of his relatives to descend upon town. This was not a circumstance she was willing to countenance. It was clear now that she would have to be direct in her attempts to dissuade her brother from returning to the backwater they had so recently vacated.

Raising her voice so that the room's other occupant might hear her as well as her brother, Caroline responded, "Oh, Charles. I know what you must be feeling. I will not deny that Jane Bennet has a sweet disposition, but have you any indication that she returns your affection?"

"Nothing definitive, of course, but she seemed to enjoy my company as much as I did hers."

"Charles—"

"What am I to expect, Caroline? I have made no declaration myself, so I have given her no leave to do so."

"Charles, Mrs. Bennet's intentions are quite clear, so of course her daughter paid you ample attention."

"Jane is not mercenary."

"Of course not, Charles, but — Oh, Mr. Darcy, will you not support me? Please do tell Charles how foolish it would be to pursue Miss Bennet."

Mr. Darcy looked up from the papers he had been examining and let out a sigh before reluctantly rising to join Mr. Bingley and his sister in a conversation he had most studiously been avoiding any part in since its inception.

"Bingley, I understand you do not share my sentiments regarding Miss Bennet's unsuitability as a bride based on her situation alone, however, the fact remains that I never noted in Miss Bennet a particular regard for you. She could hardly be other than attentive when you so often sought her out. Certainly she returned the attentions you bestowed upon her, but her pleasure in those attentions did not appear to vary from the pleasure she took in engaging with any other member of the assembled company at the time. The serenity of her countenance in these circumstances suggests to me that her heart is unaffected. She is a kind, well-mannered young lady, certainly, but you would not wish to marry where your affections are not reciprocated, would you?" Mr. Darcy attempted to cajole his friend into seeing the truth of the situation.

"Do you really believe her unaffected, Darcy? I was certain … but perhaps if I returned and had more time …" Mr. Bingley trailed off, withering under the weight of the speculation before him. His sister's arguments he had long learned to take in stride, but the added consequence of his closest friend's assertions gave him pause. He sunk unceremoniously onto an adjacent settee and tugged at his overlong locks mindlessly.

Seeing that her brother's defenses had been adequately breeched by the force of his friend's influence, Caroline sat herself beside him and took his hand gently in her own, "Dear Charles, it would be an unkindness not only to yourself, but also to poor Jane. You must see that with her gentle disposition she would do whatever her mother asked of her. If she does not hold you in affection and you were to offer for her, she would feel obliged to accept out of duty to her family despite any misgivings she herself might have on the matter. You would not wish to put her in such an untenable position, surely?"

Mr. Bingley let out a deep moan of anguish, dropping his face into his hands. His sister and friend could just make out his muffled response indicating he had not considered that his insistence in pursuing her might affect Miss Bennet in such a way. The two co-conspirators, as it were, felt this was sufficient indication that the argument had been clenched.

Having carried her point and thereafter been unsuccessful in eliciting anything more than civil responses in her attempts to initiate further conversation with the object of her own aspirations, Caroline Bingley soon found herself needed elsewhere. In the wake of her departure, Mr. Darcy reviewed the documents he had been studying at the outset of his visit with a rather inattentive Mr. Bingley before bidding his melancholic friend farewell with wishes that his disappointment would be of short duration. He took no pleasure in playing a pivotal role in casting down such a cheerful fellow, but he hoped his friend would find the services rendered of some value in hindsight.

* * *

Mr. Darcy rubbed his eyes as he set aside the missive he had been reading amongst a pile of similar correspondence that was neatly arranged on the expansive surface of the desk in his study at Darcy House. Dinner had been a quiet affair — just he and Georgiana. It was a welcome respite after the events of that morning. He was happy to find Georgiana's spirits much improved since he had last seen her before his visit to Hertfordshire. He found comfort in these quiet moments with her. Time with his sister and attending to her comfort kept the loneliness that had so recently begun to plague him at bay, though it could not eradicate it entirely . Addressing the business and estate matters that his secretary had not felt urgent enough to warrant forwarding on to him at Netherfield did not, however, have quite the same effect. An occupied mind was not, as he found, a remedy for all ills.

Just as he picked up the next letter from a now dwindling stack, there was a knock at the door.

"Enter," he called out, glancing up from his work to see his butler, Harrison, open the study door.

"Colonel Fitzwilliam to see you, sir," Harrison announced the arrival of Mr. Darcy's cousin, who sauntered in behind Harrison, scarcely allowing the seasoned servant to fulfill his duty (and eliciting a rather ungentlemanly eye roll from master and servant alike).

"Thank you, Harrison," Mr. Darcy dismissed his butler as his cousin dropped unceremoniously into one of the chairs arranged at the other side of the desk where he himself sat. As the door softly clicked closed behind him, Mr. Darcy pulled his watch out of his pocket and glanced at it pointedly before returning it to his pocket and turning to meet the gaze of the man seated across from him. He raised an eyebrow at his cousin but said nothing.

Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam let out a chuckle, "What now, Darce? Not happy to see your cousin, so recently returned from the throes of war?"

"I have been aware of your safe return from the front for many months now, Richard. I hardly think your arrival this evening warrants a parade of honor."

"Ah, but you had not yet seen me since my return. I confess I am disappointed at your apparent lack of concern over my person. Even mother, who I daresay likes me a great deal less than she does Vernon — though with a name like Vernon, I cannot imagine why — gave me a good look over to ensure I was not unduly disfigured or maimed from my battlefield."

"I can see from here that you are no uglier than the last time I had the misfortune to lay eyes on you, so I see no cause to fuss over you, however much you might desire the attention." Mr. Darcy returned, the slightest upturn of his lips betraying the real affection in which he held the colonel, "As for Vernon, I suppose your mother's role is providing him with such an unfortunate Christian name has some bearing on her willingness to overlook it in granting him favor. She may have mentioned some once or twice that he has also been more obliging in providing her with grandchildren to dote upon."

Mr. Darcy's guest shrugged off the insult with a grin, "I noticed you did not bother to have Harrison request any refreshments be provided."

"If you wanted refreshments, Richard, perhaps you should have come by at an hour more appropriate for entertaining guests."

"I thought you might say so, so I took the liberty of requesting that Mrs. Whiting have a little something brought up from the kitchen." Darcy merely shook his head, not at all surprised that his cousin had charmed his housekeeper into rousing cook. Colonel Fitzwilliam continued, "Besides, I did come during proper visiting hours, but Georgiana indicated you had been out for quite some time paying a call on Miss Bingley."

"You know very well it was Bingley and not his sister I was there to see, Richard," Mr. Darcy frowned.

"You have been harassing me mercilessly for the better part of a quarter of an hour, Darce. There is no need to get yourself in a huff merely because I have returned the favor. Perhaps there is something to Georgiana's suspicions," the colonel peered thoughtfully at his cousin.

"What did she say?" Mr. Darcy asked in surprise, but he was waved off by his cousin.

"I did find it curious that she chose not to attend you on your call to the Bingleys."

Mr. Darcy tucked away his cousin's previous comment to return to later before replying, "Ah, well, it seems Georgiana cares less and less for Miss Bingley's company. I cannot say that I blame her, but I can hardly help being in her company if I wish to see Bingley."

"A change of venue might do the trick. Could you not invite Bingley to join you at White's rather than visiting him at Hurst's?" Colonel Fitzwilliam suggested, eliciting an exaggerated exhale from his cousin. "Lord, Darce. What have you to say against White's? You have no match-making mamas to contend with there as you have at the varied entertainments of the season."

"No, instead I must endure the overtures of their husbands who, I must say, generally lack the finesse of their wives, which makes the business all the more awkward when they find I have no interest in taking the daughter they are so enthusiastically praising off their hands."

The colonel let out a huff of breath and shook his head slowly, "I am afraid you have only one alternative before you then, cousin."

"And what, pray tell, is that?" Mr. Darcy responded, readying himself for further teasing.

"You must find yourself a wife."

"I see now why you appear so grave."

"A miserable business, but it would put off Miss Bingley."

"I am not certain that is entirely true."

"I am inclined to agree, but I would not let Bingley hear you say that," Colonel Fitzwilliam grinned.

"Certainly not. In any case, I am in no hurry to become a tenant for life."

"Aunt Catherine will be sorely disappointed. You know how she loves to be of use, and I feel certain that she would have risen to the occasion of finding a eligible parti quite admirably," Colonel Fitzwilliam smirked.

"Careful, Richard, or I may find myself regrettably indisposed come Easter and you may travel to Kent and put Rosings to right on your own."

The colonel put his hand over his heart and dropped his jaw in mock horror, prompting the first true smile he had seen out of his cousin all evening. "As I find I would prefer to pursue Old Boney across the continent rather than face Aunt Catherine alone, I shall concede the point. So tell me, how is our friend Bingley — aside from being saddled with a vulgar mushroom of a sister?"

"I am concerned for him, Richard. He fancies himself in love yet again."

"What? Again? I do hope it is not so bad as the last bit of muslin he fancied and then forgot."

"Goodness, no!" Mr. Darcy was quick to answer, but then his curiosity getting the better of him asked, "Incidentally, whatever became of Miss Cartwright?"

"She is most unhappily married to Lord Worthington — the gentleman she was discovered with under similar circumstances to those she attempted to orchestrate for your friend after he dawdled a little long for her liking in coming to the point — who proved to be far less solvent than either Miss Cartwright or her mother were wont to believe. She is presently rusticating at the family seat in Shropshire, most cruelly removed from the pleasures — and expenses — of town. It serves her right, of course, though I feel for Lord Worthington."

"Indeed," Darcy commented, shaking his head over the lord's fate. "I would not the young lady who has most recently caught Bingley's attention the disservice of suggesting her capable of resorting to the same methods as those the new Lady Worthington utilized to catch herself a husband, however, her situation and family render her quite unsuitable for Bingley. More importantly, I cannot see that she returned his affections. I have only just convinced him to give her up. I had hoped not to interfere, allowing this latest infatuation to die out on its own as it has so frequently done in the past. Miss Bingley, however, would press the issue this morning, and I felt it best to speak openly with Bingley in hopes of sparing him the inevitable heartache. He took it poorly, but I hope he will soon return to his usual cheerful self. I do wish he would be more cautious."

"Like you, you mean?" Colonel Fitzwilliam asked, his brow furrowed in thought.

"Your expression suggests that you do not approve of the level of caution I exercise in matters of love and matrimony, Richard." Mr. Darcy replied, a touch defensively.

"To say you are cautious would imply that you are indeed making some forward progress on the matter, Darce, when in fact you avoid every opportunity to meet a prospective partner or behave in such a forbidding manner that only the most determined mamas and their daughters dare approach you — which I am certain only furthers your resolve to conduct yourself thus. It will not do, cousin." Mr. Darcy made to interrupt, but his cousin merely held up his hand to signal he was not finished, "I might tease you about marrying to put off the likes of Miss Bingley, but the fact is that you must marry eventually — for your own good, and for Georgiana's. Where do you hope to meet partner with whom you will build a future if you refuse to truly participate in society?"

Where indeed. Mr. Darcy leaned back in his chair and ran his hand over his face as the forceful weight of an exhaustion entirely unrelated to his physical state settled upon him.

"What happened in Hertfordshire, Darce?" the colonel interrupted his thoughts before he could get fully lost in them.

Mr. Darcy's eyes snapped up from where they had lingered over the cluttered surface of his desk to meet the colonel's searching gaze. He swallowed uncomfortably before replying, "Nothing of interest. I was there to support Bingley as he acclimated to running an estate. Aside from rescuing him from unnecessary heartache, nothing of note occurred. I am relieved to be back in London with my sister."

"Hmm," Richard mumbled, scratching the scruff that was forming on his chin at such a late hour.

"What is it, Richard," Darcy all but growled, becoming agitated by his cousin's scrutiny.

"You are closer to me than my own brother, Darce. What is it you are not telling me?"

"Richard —"

"Before you deny it, know that Georgiana is worried for you."

"This is what you referred to earlier in our conversation." It was a statement more than a question.

"It is. She said that you have been blue-deviled since your return from Hertfordshire — oh not in so many words, of course, but that was the implication. She also said that there was a particular young lady that you mentioned in no less than four letters when you wrote to her from Hertfordshire but that when she inquired after the young woman upon your return, you became agitated and quickly changed the subject. She fancies you a star-crossed lover, Darce. When she mentioned her concerns for you this morning, I confess I thought she might just be allowing her imagination to get carried away with her given her propensity for novel reading. Now, however, I wonder if she might be right."

"You are mistaken, Richard. I merely admired the young lady's curiosity and intelligence. She was also especially adept at putting Miss Bingley in her place, which I mentioned to Georgiana in one of my letters. She had a liveliness about her that led me to believe she and my sister would get on exceedingly well if they did not move in such different circles." Darcy replied, cursing the madness that led him to write of Miss Elizabeth Bennet so often.

"Perhaps an advantageous marriage would put this young lady in the way to occupy the same social circles as dear Georgiana so that they might become friends?" the colonel prodded, pausing a moment before adding, "Perhaps even sisters?" He knew full well he was entering dangerous territory.

Darcy sighed and after a moment's hesitation responded, "Even were she an eligible parti, it is very likely that she is even now betrothed to her cousin — is perhaps even on the point of marriage. As that marriage will most certainly not put her in the way to share the same social circles as myself or Georgiana, might we let the matter rest?"

Colonel Fitzwilliam did not miss the anguish of his cousin's tone as he made this revelation. He quietly apologized for his interference and the two moved on to less weighty subjects. Refreshments were brought in by the doting housekeeper herself, and a fine French brandy was produced and consumed in generous portions. At length, Darcy admitted he was immensely happy to have his cousin on English soil again, far from the bloodshed that seemed to stretch on endlessly on the continent.

The visit stretched on for another hour complete, and as the colonel made to take his leave of his cousin, promising to return for dinner the following day, he stopped short and asked, "Say Darce, I nearly forgot. Had you a chance to finish that collection of journal entries from the peninsula that I sent?"

 **A/N: Despite RL interfering with my writing schedule and a general dread over some of these in between chapters that are necessary for plot development but not as exciting as some of the more pivotal events coming up in future chapters, I am quite happy with how this chapter turned out.**

 **Mr. Hurst's estate name: I could not pick one. What do you think? Let me know in your reviews. :)**

 **Grumpy Insomniac & BlueRagingFire: You will most definitely be meeting Mr. Collins' family. It's a few chapters down the line, but rest assured they will make an appearance. *strums fingers together and grins mischievously***

 **As always, click below to leave your reviews as they encourage me to keep writing even when the muse is uncooperative or the chapters aren't the ones I'm most excited to pull together (seriously, the notes I have for several chapters down the line are exhaustive and I am so SO anxious to get to some exciting stuff I want to share with you all - but we have to get there first!).**

 **Follow to receive notifications when new chapters are posted.**


	17. Chapter 16 (Part I)

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

The floorboards groaned in protest beneath her feet as Elizabeth quietly slipped down the stairs to retrieve a volume from her father's study in the early morning hours. Believing herself to be the only one besides the servants to have risen at such an hour, she was somewhat startled to look up upon entering the room to see her father bent over his desk, forehead creased in concentration as he apparently mulled over some matter of business.

"I beg your pardon, papa. I had not expected you to be up at this hour, or I would not have presumed to enter without first knocking." Elizabeth apologized for the intrusion, the sound of her voice apparently startling Mr. Bennet.

"Well, Lizzy! I was so absorbed in this correspondence that I daresay I did not even hear you enter." Mr. Bennet smiled a greeting to his daughter.

"Estate business?" she inquired.

"Of a sort, yes," he replied, "While he was here, Mr. Collins worked out a plan to assist Cartwright in recouping some of his losses from the last harvest and a way to facilitate repairs on some of his property at very little expense to myself. You find me this morning attempting to write to him to clarify an issue Roberts has found in the plan so that we might work toward finalizing the details and moving forward with the project."

"You are writing to Mr. Collins?"

"I am," Mr. Bennet arched his brow at the disbelief in his daughter's tone.

Elizabeth quickly schooled her features and moved to sit in one of the armchairs arranged opposite her father, "I am quite familiar with the Cartwright's situation, papa. If you would like to address the matter more expeditiously, I am at my leisure this morning. I would be happy to discuss it with you."

"Do not trouble yourself, child. It is not a matter of great urgency. I merely wish to apprise your cousin of these latest developments so that he may be thinking on it. If I need further consultation, I can address it with him when he returns in just a few days time."

"Is his return a definite thing then?"

"Did I not say?" Mr. Bennet seemed to think about it and then waved his hand dismissively, "I thought I had mentioned it at supper last evening. In his reply to my last missive, your cousin advised me that he has been able to arrange things at his parish such that he will be able to return to us at Christmas for several days." Mr. Bennet paused and looked up at his daughter who seemed unusually thoughtful given the subject matter, "Does this news please you, Lizzy?"

Roused from her thoughts at the sound of her name, Elizabeth smirked and replied, "Of course, papa. Mr. Collins will be a welcome addition to our family party." She would give him nothing further to add to whatever suspicions he was harboring. His only response is to chuckle lightly and return his attentions to the work before him.

In truth, Elizabeth would be glad to see her cousin again. That was not, however, what she had been contemplating so distractedly. Instead, it was the knowledge that her father — heretofore a shockingly negligent correspondent — had written to Mr. Collins not once, but apparently twice over the short period since his departure from Longbourn. She glanced over at her father, busy scribbling a response to her cousin.

"Are you certain you do not wish to try to come to some solution presently?" she interrupted his efforts once more.

Looking up at her, he responded, "I am certain, Lizzy. Now, you had best hurry to retrieve whatever volume you wished to spirit away before your mother wakes and all attempts at quiet leisure become futile."

Elizabeth began to rise, speaking to her silent acquiescence, however, Mr. Bennet caught sight of the frown that pulled down at the corners of her lips before she could turn fully away from him to cross the room.

"Come, Lizzy. You are not going to be missish over this business, are you? Collins is my heir. These decisions affect him, so it is fitting that he be the one with whom I discuss such matters."

"Yes, papa," She replied without turning back to him. She quickly found the volume she sought and slipped out of the study without another word. As she pulled the door shut behind her, she heard her father heave a great sigh.

Not wishing to disturb Jane in their shared room — and not of a mind to talk with anyone just yet, should her elder sister already be awake, she climbed to the top of the stairs and lowered herself on the top step. Longbourn was still quiet, the sound of servants at their morning tasks faint enough not to intrude upon the thoughts that had her so discomposed at present.

The conversation with her father had been unexceptionable in and of itself. Her father had every right — and indeed, perhaps a certain responsibility — to consult his heir on matters of estate business. However, a realization was dawning on her just as surely as the sun was beginning to warm the winter landscape of Hertfordshire with its muted rays. She could not — and truly did not — resent Mr. Collins for the change in her father. Truly he was, perhaps for the first time in his life (and certainly in her rememberence), acting with some degree of familial duty. She could not deny that this was a positive step. It was instead the intruding thought that rather than some progressive notion of what a woman might be capable of driving his decisions to include her in such matters in the past, it had always been a matter of convenience for him. He was not so far reformed that she might fear him preventing her from continuing to pursue whatever subjects she might like, but where she was no longer his sole alternative, she would no longer be favored. Perhaps she had always known this to be the case deep down, but then she had never had cause to examine such thoughts closer as she never anticipated being usurped in her father's esteem. Had she a brother, she may never have been granted the latitude she had so enjoyed in the first place. Something began to shift in her in that early morning hour, and it was there, still deep in thought that Jane found her some time later, and beckoned her to properly dress and join her in going down to for breakfast.

 **A/N: Hello, my lovelies! Just a quick snippet this morning. All of my kids have activities this week. Even my toddler has kids' camp three hours a day all week. What does this mean for you and me, you say? I'm so glad you asked! It means I will have 2+ hours to write every. single. day. Say what!? I'm only a little excited about this, as you can tell. This is actually only the first of three-ish scenes intended for the next chapter, but it was the one I had the most pre-writing notes on and was easiest to put together. The next two scenes will take a bit more time and therefore likely go over my time allotment for this morning. As I have not kept to my intended schedule, I wanted to get a little something to you post haste. Good news: The rest of this "chapter" (including a run in with Wickham in Meryton) will be out to you no later than tomorrow! Until then, enjoy!**

 **Click review to leave me feedback. I also love to hear your thoughts on where things are going (hint: Elizabeth never goes to Hunsford in this fic - what?!).**

 **To receive notifications when new chapters are posted, follow this story below.**


	18. Chapter 16 (Part II)

CHAPTER SIXTEEN (PART II)

The morning following her rude awakening saw Elizabeth braving the brisk winter air to walk into Meryton with Kitty. In all of the self examination she had been forced to undertake in recent weeks, she had quickly come to realize that Mary was not the only of her sisters whom she had overlooked for far too long. Kitty may not have been of the same mind regarding forwarding her relationship with her elder sister, but the opportunity to remove herself from Lydia's sphere of influence, however temporarily, was a welcome reprieve. Conversation was somewhat stilted, but Elizabeth did her best to draw out her younger sister and allowed the silence where forcing conversation seemed to be counterproductive.

As they reached the small country village, Kitty suddenly inquired if she might call on Mrs. Long and her nieces while Elizabeth delivered a basket of food to another of the villagers that she and Mrs. Hill were conspiring to look after in light of the recent loss of her husband. Elizabeth gladly agreed and walked with Kitty as far as Mrs. Long's door, asking her to tell Mrs. Long she herself would join them as soon as her errand was completed. Kitty agreed and the two parted ways.

Elizabeth walked along in thoughtful silence, mulling over recent events. Jane's ongoing disappointment weighed on her heavily, as did the more recent unveiling of the truth of her relationship with her father. She was gazing absently at the still damp dirt of the road as she went to take a shortcut between two rows of shops and houses. As she turned the corner, she glanced up as she turned the corner and came to an abrupt stop. There, just a few doorways down the narrow alley, stood Helena Richardson, the milliner's daughter, in a most compromising position with one of the officers of the regiment on the back stoop of her father's shop. Elizabeth threw her hand over her mouth to stifle her gasp, not wishing to alert the pair to her presence. The young man's back was turned to her, so she could not make out who it might be. What she could see was that he was most assuredly taking liberties with the young girl — not yet seventeen if she remembered correctly — his hands caressing her in such a way that Elizabeth hardly knew where to look. That Helena welcomed the man's attentions was evident by the shy smile gracing her lips and the pink tinge to her cheeks. As Elizabeth's mind raced with thoughts as to what course of action she ought to take, the two young people leaned in closer, their lips meeting in a searing kiss that went far beyond the chaste kisses Elizabeth had occasionally witnessed between her aunt and uncle or between those caught accidentally — or serendipitously — beneath the mistletoe with one another at Christmas. There was nothing innocent about this kiss. Just as Elizabeth was turning to tiptoe back around the corner where she could devise a plan of action without risk of being seen, she heard Helena giggle breathlessly and sigh out one word just loudly enough for Elizabeth to make it out.

 _Wickham_.

Elizabeth froze, her breath hitching in her throat. Her desire not to be seen now all the more keen, however, she quickly composed herself and slipped around the corner where she leaned heavily on the wall of the modest house there. While she longed to put as much distance between herself and the couple whose assignation she had so unwillingly witnessed as possible, she could not in good conscience leave poor Helena to her fate. She was young and naive, and she could not allow the man — for she could hardly call him a gentleman — to continue his attentions undeterred. Looking down she noticed a decent size stone she had taken care to step around earlier, and she quickly decided upon her course of action.

Taking a deep breath and hoping the young people feared discovery to the same degree she disliked her role as the one doing the discovering, Elizabeth hitched up her skirts slightly, bending her knee back and kicking the stone with all her might. The stone skittered across the road, knocking soundly against the back wall of the first shop along the alley. It had been loud, the sound rivaling only that of the thrumming of her heartbeat in her ears. Elizabeth stood there, silently counting off several seconds to allow the couple to disperse. She had gone through the trouble of interrupting their scandalous tête-à-tête, she would follow through to ensure her plan had manifested the desired results. Peeking around the corner hesitantly, she could just make out the young officer walking away from her at the far end of the row of houses. Helena was nowhere to be seen, likely having slipped back into her father's shop. Elizabeth breathed a sigh of relief, but she knew she could not let it rest there.

It was unfortunate that the officers — the invitation having included Mr. Wickham — were due to take tea with the Bennets that very evening. She did not have long to act upon this new knowledge, but act upon it she must. She hastened to deliver the basket of provisions and returned to find Kitty enjoying a pleasant visit with the Longs. She stayed only long enough to maintain politeness and then strongly hinted to Kitty that they ought to be going. The two young ladies bid their adieus and began the walk back to Longbourn.

Elizabeth's punishing pace drew several complaints from her younger sister. Kitty was not as accustomed to exerting herself as her elder sister, and having herself no reason in mind that would necessitate such a hurried trip home, she felt it unfair for Elizabeth to push her to the point of exhaustion without adequate cause. She told Elizabeth as much, prompting her to finally slow her pace to one of greater moderation.

Glad for the diminished pace, and now better able to distinguish her sister's expression, Kitty inquired in a voice that still spoke to her previous exertion, "Lizzy? Is something the matter? Why are you in such a rush to return home?"

Taking a moment to consider what she might in good faith divulge, Elizabeth responded, "I have seen something in town this morning that has caused me great distress," she paused, "Kitty, have you ever noticed anything untoward about Mr. Wickham."

Kitty looked at Elizabeth thoughtfully, chewing on her bottom lip.

"What is it, Kitty?"

"I cannot say anything particular against him, Lizzy."

"But?"

"But—" Kitty appeared to be choosing her words carefully, "I have often noted that Mr. Wickham is terribly insincere. He appears charming, but there is something false about him that I do not like."

"Why did you not say anything?"

"I have nothing to accuse him of, Lizzy," she sighed, "Besides, I am not certain how much of my aversion to Mr. Wickham is a response to the gentleman himself and how much is bias because he seemed to favor Lydia. In light of our recent falling out, I am not sure I can be entirely objective."

Elizabeth was silent, taken aback by the maturity of Kitty's response — and the fact that she had seen what Lizzy had refused to admit to herself. She had been so used to Kitty following wherever Lydia might lead, that she had seldom had cause to consider her on her own merits. She suspected Kitty had only recently begun to do the same.

Elizabeth's thoughts were interrupted by the same person with whom they were occupied, "Do you suspect Mr. Wickham of something, Lizzy? What happened in Meryton this morning?"

"I do not wish to say at present, Kitty. I feel I ought to speak with Papa first so that he might address the matter more directly. I would caution you, however, not to trust Mr. Wickham."

"You have no cause for concern on my part, Lizzy. I do not care two straws for him." Kitty assured her.

"Very good," Elizabeth gave her sister a slight smile, "Now, do you think we might walk just a little faster so that I might speak with Papa before the officers are due to join us?"

Kitty complied, taking her sister's arm and together they covered the ground to Longbourn as quickly as they could.

~P&P~

The drawing room of Longbourn was a din of conversation as Mrs. Bennet and at least one of her daughters reveled in the attentions of Mr. Wickham and several of his fellow officers. Jane Bennet served the tea, making polite conversation whenever called upon to do so — ever the consummate gentlewoman. Mary and Kitty observed attentively, but their mother and youngest sister required little assistance in carrying forward the conversation.

For her part, Elizabeth did her best to feign attentiveness, smiling and nodding where politeness dictated she should. As chagrined as she was over her father's failure to take her warnings seriously, it would not do to sulk. She would simply have to consider another means of protecting her sisters and the people of Meryton.

Elizabeth had sought out an audience with Mr. Bennet the moment and and Kitty had returned from Meryton, hoping that given ample time some excuse could be invented allowing the invitation for tea that evening to be withdrawn until some more permanent solution could be found to the matter with Mr. Wickham. Far from agreeing with her suggestion to forgo tea with the officers (could she not imagine the fits her mother would be thrown into — and at his expense?), Mr. Bennet appeared little inclined to do anything about the situation at all. His daughter had shared with him all the particulars of what she had witnessed that morning, but Mr. Bennet argued that because she had not actually seen his face to confirm his identity and had only heard the merest snippet of a conversation — a whispered one at that — there was not adequate evidence to confront the young man. What if, he had reasoned, the officer she saw was merely expressing jealously of Mr. Wickham and the milliner's daughter had simply been reassuring him that Mr. Wickham posed no threat to his suit. Elizabeth took exception to his reference to the young man's attentions as a suit of any kind, but no further arguments would persuade him to act. He told her that as he was not any relation to the young woman, he had not cause to interfere, and surely she would not wish him to defame Mr. Wickham in such a way as might give the young man cause to call him out for questioning his honor. Her pleas to at least exclude him from future invitations and advise her mother and sisters to avoid Mr. Wickham were waved off as likely to create a ruckus the likes of which he was not willing to endure. At length Mr. Bennet told his second youngest to drop the matter.

So there she sat, observing with utmost scrutiny the behavior of said _gentleman_ , in whom she now began to see the extent of the insincerity about which Kitty had her own reservations. Mr. Wickham had given up on engaging her early on, as his attempts were met with the barest of civility. Lydia proved a far more entertaining companion, so that is where his attentions had shifted.

So engrossed in her own ruminations was she that she had neglected to school her expression into one of happy contentment. She was startled out of her brooding by Mr. Denny's voice. She had not realized he had crossed the room to sit near her, so lost was she in her own thoughts.

"Has my friend done something to offend you, Miss Elizabeth?" Mr. Denny inquired. His tone was an attempt at levity, but there was a certain anxiousness about him as he continued when she looked at blankly, "You are glaring at him quite pointedly."

"How well do you know your friend, Mr. Denny?" she asked in a low tone. His brow furrowed at her question.

"Not nearly so well as some suppose. He was introduced to me by a friend in London. Our mutual acquaintance gave me some hints of his reduced circumstances, which I believe he has shared with you, and I suggested that he might find someone willing to sponsor his commission in the regiment. He seems to get on well with our fellow officers and the local gentry."

"And the people of Meryton?" she asked without thinking.

"That is an odd question."

Realizing she could hardly have such a conversation in mixed company — let alone with a virtual stranger — she apologized and attempted to change the subject. They talked of his home county of Surrey. He had much to say on the beauty of that county and his regrets at the necessity of leaving it. It soon became evident that his curiosity on their previous topic of conversation was not quite sated as he turned the conversation back to his fellow officer.

"Miss Elizabeth, you clearly have some concerns regarding Mr. Wickham. Might these concerns —" he hesitated, "Might these concerns be because Miss Lydia favors him? Do you wish to ascertain his worthiness?" He fiddled absently with the cuff of his pristine red coat as he awaited her reply.

Surprised by the question, Elizabeth turned a curious eye on her companion, "Have you an interest in where my sister's affections lie, Mr. Denny?"

"My apologies, Miss Elizabeth. It was unpardonably rude for me to mention it."

"I did not mean to chastise, Mr. Denny," Elizabeth smiled warmly at him.

Appreciative of her graciousness at his faux pas, he merely added, "I am unfortunately not in any position to forward a suit with any young lady, no matter how much I might like to do so. I must make my way in the world a while longer and hope fortune casts her smile upon me."

Mr. Denny soon found himself called to join in the discussion of a particularly humorous incident that had occurred during training some days prior, and Elizabeth was once again left to her own devices. She considered the dilemma before her and decided she would do what she could to warn her mother and sisters against Mr. Wickham, though she expected she would be more successful in some quarters than others. As for Helena Richardson, she would seek out Mrs. Hill and see if they might be able to come up with a discreet method of hinting that Mr. Richardson ought be more mindful of his daughter's comings and goings. It was the best she could do, but it fell woefully short of her expectations.

In all of this she did not miss the fact that Mr. Darcy, whatever his faults, appeared to have been right regarding Mr. Wickham's character. She had been mistaken in thinking that gentleman's departure would bring peace to her heretofore quiet corner of the world. Her miscalculation where he was concerned caused her considerable uneasiness. But there was nothing for it at present. He was gone, and Mr. Bingley with him. She had plans to attempt to bring about a renewed acquaintance with the latter, but she was torn on whether any further interaction with the former would be welcome.

 **A/N: Well, hello there. I told you I'd be back today! :)**

 **As always, review, review, REVIEW! Follow the story to receive updates via email when new chapters are posted (maybe even as early as this weekend?!).**


	19. Chapter 17

**CHAPTER SEVENTEEN**

As the Christmas holiday approached, the weather in Hertfordshire at last seemed to reflect the season and the days, spent largely indoors, spilled one over into the next with a quiet sort of monotony. Little of note occurred at Longbourn or in its environs. The regiment in Meryton had thinned out considerably as a number of the officers were granted leave to spend the holiday with family in their home counties or, as was the case for one officer in particular, to pursue a young woman who had recently come into a small fortune to wherever she and her family might be enjoying their Christmas festivities. The combined forces of mother nature and regimental leave allowances rendered the pool of social callers particularly shallow. Elizabeth could not help but observe with wry humor that their social circle during this period was indeed _confined and unvarying_. She wisely kept this observation to herself. Fanny Bennet was already decidedly out of humor with her second eldest as she felt she was somehow to blamee for Wickham's abrupt departure merely because she had warned her mother and sisters against the man. Elizabeth's failure to conceal her satisfaction with his departure had only exacerbated her mother's complaints. Still, she would rather endure Mrs. Bennet's remonstrances than see one of her sisters fall prey to Mr. Wickham. Fortune, it would seem, was on her side — for now at least.

Despite the tedium of these days, they did eventually pass. It was not long before the Bennets of Longbourn were gathered before the entrance to their humble estate, greeting the Gardiners as they stepped from their carriage, having just arrived from their home in London. Never ones to stand upon ceremony, the Bennets welcomed their most beloved relatives with all the warmth and exuberance that a prolonged absence could be expected to excite. Their affectionate greetings were returned in kind, and the visitors were quickly settled into their accommodations so that they might rest from their journey and join their family as they began their celebrations of the joyous season.

~P&P~

"Well, Lizzy," Madelaine Gardiner claimed the vacant seat next to her favorite niece (a fact she would of course deny, because she did not _have_ favorites) in the Longbourn drawing room following a rather lively family dinner. "I have heard — at length — Fanny's insights into Jane's disappointment, but I would very much like to hear your version of events. Jane herself said nothing in her most recent letter, and though her writing was more subdued than usual, there was nothing it in that caused me concern. I am surprised you had so little to say in your last."

"I said but little because I truly believed Mr. Bingley meant to return. Indeed, I believe he did. I cannot imagine what has kept him away — well, that is not entirely true. I _imagine_ that his sisters have contrived a reason to keep him in town against his wishes."

"They do not approve of the match?"

"Not at all. Our lack of wealth and connections rendered us sadly unsuitable in light of their own social aspirations."

"But Mr. Bingley did not share in this objection?"

"No one who saw them together could doubt his affection for her, Aunt. There are several in the neighborhood who commented on their expectations of a proposal being imminent — and not at mama's prompting either. It was not merely wishful thinking on the part of the Bennets of Longbourn."

Elizabeth expounded further upon the brief acquaintance between her sister and Mr. Bingley and shared her own concerns about Jane's unremitting melancholy. Her aunt, much to her relief, was of a like mind on what was to be done.

As their discussion regarding Jane's predicament came to its natural conclusion, Madelaine Gardiner looked thoughtfully at Elizabeth, "And how do you fare, Lizzy?"

"I am well enough, I suppose," Elizabeth smiled, willing her aunt to leave the subject — a hope which was to be disappointed. Her aunt cared too much for her to let the matter drop.

Looking across the room to its other occupants to ensure they had some semblance of privacy, Mrs. Gardiner began, "It is your letters, not Jane's, that have given me cause for concern, Lizzy." She took Elizabeth's hand in her own and squeezed it affectionately, willing her niece to meet her gaze.

"How so, aunt?"

"Your recent missives have been full of a great deal of introspection and very little else. They have been bereft of your usual good humour. I understand that some changes may be difficult to face and that you have had your share of disappointments of late. However, you are usually so resilient in the face of such challenges. What has changed that it has affected you so?"

Elizabeth shifted uncomfortably, her gaze drifting across the room to rest on Mr. Bennet. Mrs. Gardiner followed her gaze and sighed audibly. Taking Elizabeth's hand, she rose, whispering to her, "Come, child."

"I beg your pardon, Fanny," Madelaine Gardiner addressed her sister in law, "I find I am rather more fatigued from the journey that I realized. Elizabeth has kindly offered to accompany me to my room and read to me as I prepare for bed. I bid you all a good evening."

Elizabeth silently took her aunt's lead, noting her uncle's look of concern and the slight shake of her head that her Aunt Gardiner gave him to reassure him she was well. Elizabeth could not help but smile at this silent communication and the ease with which her aunt and uncle navigated their relationship. As the two of them made their way into the hall and up the stairs toward the room that had been prepared for the Gardiners, she wondered what life might have been had her parents been so well-matched.

Once inside with the door tightly closed behind them, Mrs. Gardiner bid her niece to tell her all that troubled her. Elizabeth shared in greater detail than she had felt comfortable setting down on paper all that had transpired between she and her father in recent weeks.

"I am so sorry, Lizzy, but I cannot say that I am surprised. Your father, in many ways, is a product of the world in which we live—"

"But Uncle Gardiner—" Elizabeth began to argue that her Uncle did not appear to subscribe to the same antiquated way of thinking that seemed to permeate their society.

Her aunt, however, made to interrupt her, "It may interest you to know, Lizzy, that your uncle did not always hold such views," here Elizabeth furrowed her brow, but allowed her aunt to continue unhindered, "My own father was rather progressive in his opinions on what a woman can accomplish. He, as you know, ran a business not far from where your uncle is now situated. When I was young I recall him openly consulting my mother on a number of matters, and as I grew older, he often took me to his warehouses and explained how his business worked. He let me have a hand at the ledgers so that I might understand how he accounted for his income and expenses — though I do not believe his clerk cared much for my involvement. I did not realize until I was nearly grown how singular a man my father truly was. That he faced great opposition from business partners became more evident as he neared the end of his life. He could not fully shield us from it then. It came to light that some of the decisions on which he consulted my mother did not suit his partners — largely because my mother tended to urge him to integrate some degree of compassion into his dealings rather than operating in the more ruthless manner of some of his competitors. My father was successful, but his success rested largely on the loyalty of his workers and customers than from achieving a large share of business in the upper circles — something his partners certainly aspired to. Their complaints, and the manner in which the blame was placed on his stubborn insistence on consulting a woman on such matters, began to open my eyes to all he had been insulating us against. By the time I met your uncle, my social circle had broadened enough that I had become aware that finding a man such as my father would be a difficult task. Your uncle was always kind and generous, but at the outset of our marriage, he was as inclined to keep his business matters to himself as the next man. One day I overheard him discussing a particularly troubling situation with one of his clerks. Finding him alone in his study that evening, I offered my thoughts on the dilemma he faced — entirely unsolicited, mind you. I will not trouble you with the details as they matter not, but we had a terrible row."

"I cannot believe it!" Elizabeth exclaimed, "I see the way you communicate without saying a word — you are so in tune with one another. I cannot imagine uncle dismissing you out of hand."

Here Elizabeth's aunt had a good laugh at her niece's expense. "That, my love, is the product of many years of marriage and a great deal of work. We may seem well-matched now, dearest, but even the most compatible of spouses must work at their marriage. That was far from our first — and certainly not our last — disagreement. Marriage is no easy thing, but the efforts to love one another through all of it and work at compromising and serving one another are well worth it in the long run."

"I assume uncle gave way in this case?"

"Oh no, dearest," her aunt chuckled, "It was not until the situation at the warehouse was almost beyond repair worse that he took a chance and did as I suggested out of desperation. He did not say anything to me about it at the time — things were sadly still rather tense between us. It was some weeks later that he approached me and apologized for being so shortsighted," Mrs. Gardiner's eyes twinkled at such a description of her dear husband, "And that, Lizzy, is when I realized what a great man I had married. It takes a great deal of humility to admit one is wrong — regardless of one's sex — but it is an even greater show of character to be willing to change based on that discovery, even when the tides of social expectations are against you. We still have our moments, but your uncle has incorporated me into his life more fully than most of my contemporaries can boast."

Elizabeth smiled at her aunt, but it did not reach her eyes, "I am happy for you, aunt. I do wish papa were such a man."

"Elizabeth, listen to me," her aunt's uncharacteristic use of her Christian name pulled her back from her descent into self-pity. "You cannot allow a person's inability to recognize your worth to cause you to question your value as a person. You are brilliant, Elizabeth. You do not merely question, you seek answers. You have a hunger for knowledge and understanding that puts even some of the men of our society to shame. Please do not sink under your disappointment. Do not abandon who you are and what you are capable of merely because one person — or even a hundred poor fools for that matter — cannot appreciate it."

"Oh, that I did not feel so very flawed," Elizabeth sighed, "It is not merely my realization that papa does not hold me in such esteem as I had once believed that troubles me, aunt. I had always thought myself an excellent judge of character, but I have made some rather grave errors in judgment recently that make me question my understanding as a whole."

"Of course you are flawed!" her aunt returned with feeling, "We are, _none of us_ , perfect. Have I not just said that it requires a certain greatness of character to not only recognize we are wrong, but to then do something about it?" she looked pointedly at her niece.

"I suppose I have some amends to make, given the chance," Elizabeth replied.

"Very good," Her aunt nodded in approval, "And I might add that there is a vast difference between recognizing our own shortcomings versus accepting others' failures as our own. Be careful lest you confuse the two, Lizzy."

"I will try, aunt. It is all so frustrating, though."

"I know it is, Lizzy, but you must take your own philosophy to heart, my dear. Think only of the past as it gives you pleasure. Know that however unfortunate your father's lackadaisical attitude has been in other matters, he willingness to give you free reign in your education and pursuits has been its own benefit. You must try to be thankful for that, at least. And remember, your place under his roof is but temporary. You will eventually marry. You need only keep in mind those traits you would wish to find in your future husband — and be fair enough to recognize that — whoever he might be — he will not be perfect either." Madelaine Gardiner smirked at her niece, hoping to see the gesture returned. It was, but only for an instant.

"But what if I do not marry, aunt?"

"You will. I am certain of it."

"How can anyone be so certain? I cannot help but think of Charlotte leaving us to become a governess. She has given up hope of marriage, and the more I consider it, our situation is not much better."

"You are more than six years her junior, and you have other advantages Miss Lucas does not," her aunt shifted closer to her and placed her arm around her shoulders, pulling her close. "You also have very different temperaments, Lizzy. You forget I have met Miss Lucas on a number of occasions. I have a feeling that her decision does not represent the same disappointment to her that it does to you. She wants only comfort where you desire love. And love you shall have. In the meantime, let us see a bit of that old Lizzy again, will you not? I know there is a man out there who is bound to fall in love with the lively, intelligent young woman you have become. You must not give her up."

At length, their conversation drew to a close. Elizabeth promised her aunt to leave her melancholy behind her and move forward. It was a promise made with conviction, as her aunt's voice of reason had at last penetrated the self-pity and self-reproach that had made themselves at home in recent weeks. Her steps were lighter as she made her way down the hall to her own room, a significant weight having been lifted in the act of sharing it with someone she loved — and who loved her so well in return.

~P&P~

Elizabeth stepped into the bedroom she shared with Jane, pulling the door closed behind her with a quiet click. Her elder sister sat at their shared vanity, brushing out her long golden tresses. Elizabeth gave her a gentle smile as their eyes met in the reflection of the vanity's mirror.

"I hope you are not too exhausted from entertaining our young cousins this evening, Jane. They were most enthusiastic in their attempts to impress you."

"They are such dear children, but I confess I am a little tired," Jane chuckled quietly, a wistful expression crossing her features as the smile faded from her lips.

Crossing the room, Elizabeth approached her sister and leaned over to embrace her, whispering in her ear, "Please do not dismay, Jane. You will have children of your own to dote upon one day soon. I believe it is closer than you imagine." She drew Jane closer as the telltale dampness on her sleeve spoke to the tears that trickled down her sister's cheeks despite her ongoing efforts to appear content in her situation.

"I know you are resigned, Jane, but I wish you would not give up hope," Elizabeth pulled back, kneeling down to face Jane with her hands rubbing up and down Jane's arms comfortingly.

"I miss him, Lizzy. Most dreadfully" Jane sniffled, "I know it is foolishness, but I cannot believe he would use me so ill, whatever mama may say."

"I am inclined to agree, Jane. And what is more, I believe we will very soon have an opportunity to determine in which direction his intentions truly lie." Elizabeth replied cryptically.

"Whatever do you mean, Lizzy?"

"I spoke at length with Aunt Gardiner this evening," Elizabeth began, "And after apprising her of the situation, she was quite in agreement with me that a trip to London would be just the sort of diversion you are in need of at present."

"Oh, Lizzy. I could not take your place. You have been so looking forward to your visit with Aunt and Uncle Gardiner."

Elizabeth rolled her eyes at her sister's concern, "First, may I say that even were that the case, it is a sacrifice I would happily make in hopes that you would have a far more enjoyable time in town that I could hope to have." Here Jane made to interrupt, but Elizabeth held up her hand to implore Jane to let her finish, "As it is, Aunt has kindly extended the invitation for us _both_ to accompany her and Uncle Gardiner when they return to town after Christmas."

Jane shook her head as she toyed with the sleeve of her dressing gown, however, the slight upward pull at the corner of her lips was an encouraging sight for her younger sister. "Aunt and Uncle are very kind — as are you, Lizzy, to be sharing what should have been your own visit."

"I shall enjoy my visit all the more with you there to share in the experience, and who knows who we might encounter during our stay?" Elizabeth quirked a suggestive eyebrow in her elder sister's direction.

"I believe you expect too much, Lizzy."

"And you, too little," Elizabeth replied, unwilling to countenance her sister's self-depreciation, "Besides, as we have our dear friends' direction from her last letter, it would be unpardonable for us not to pay a call once we are in town. Do you not agree?"

"Of course," Jane sighed.

"Good. That is settled then." Elizabeth said with finality, taking Jane's place as she vacated the seat at the vanity.

The two sisters soon retired, a great deal remaining unsaid as the silence stretched on between them until sleep overtook them.

 **A/N: Well, needless to say, the remainder of last week did not go as planned. Still, here is the next installment just a few days later than anticipated. Not much forward momentum here, but a necessary segue nonetheless. The next (sometime in the next two weeks, no guarantee on an exact date) will cover Mr. Collins' return and Christmas festivities at Longbourn. The next chapter after that will cover Christmas in London with our beloved (and not-so-beloved) characters there. I *hope* to have both to you as a sort of "Christmas in July" gift before I run off to visit family in Florida for several weeks in August (very likely no writing will take place during that time or immediately thereafter as I recover from flying cross-country and living out of a suitcase with kids.**

 **Other than that, please be advised that I am typing this note with a clingy post-naptime three year old in my lap (read: proofreading is virtually non-existent). Please be kind. Constructive criticism is always welcome - insults, not so much. ;o)**

 **Reviews, follows and favorites are always appreciated. :)**


	20. Chapter 18

**CHAPTER EIGHTEEN**

Christmas Eve was fast on the heels of the Gardiners' arrival at Longbourn, and with it came the welcome addition of Mr. Collins to their number. A thin dusting of snow had settled upon the drive leading to Longbourn's entrance that morning, and the Bennets and the Gardiners wrapped themselves in their cloaks and pulled on woolen mittens so that they might greet the latest addition to their merry party with all the joy the season merited. As Mr. Collins alighted from the hired carriage, he offered a travel-wearied smile to his assembled relations. He greeted Mr. Bennet and his wife with great warmth, thanking them for their generosity in hosting him yet again — and at such a busy time of year. Mrs. Bennet's joyful effusions at having him with them once again were patiently endured, and an introduction to the Gardiners, who had heard much in favor of the young man, was secured. As the party collectively moved toward the house, the gentleman glanced around, offering greetings to each of his cousins. The delight Mr. Collins felt in rejoining their family party was never more evident, however, than when his gaze met the smiling eyes of Miss Elizabeth Bennet. The travel-worn cheer that had graced his features melted away to reveal an expression of such adoration that those of the party who chanced to witness it could scarce mistake its meaning.

Mr. Collins wasted no time in joining Elizabeth and offering her his arm, "I have missed your company, cousin," he greeted her warmly.

"And I yours, Mr. Collins. But let us get inside to the warmth of the fire. There you may tell me of all that has transpired since we last met." Elizabeth squeezed his arm lightly as the pair hurried indoors to warm themselves.

Behind them, Mr. And Mrs. Gardiner exchanged a knowing look and followed their favorite niece and their newest acquaintance inside.

~P&P~

Dinner that evening was as sumptuous an affair as ever it was when Mrs. Bennet had guests to please. Compliments were given and received with pleasure, and the Gardiners made every effort to become better acquainted with the young man who seemed to have taken such a decided interest in their favorite niece.

Following dinner, at Elizabeth's direction, the young people took over decorating from a grateful Mrs. Hill, filling the hall with laughter — and the occasional heated argument — as they trimmed the principal rooms with an assortment of greenery and ribbons. It was quite late before the party finally settled in for a bit of tea prior to retiring for the evening.

"Mr. Collins seems an amiable young man," Mrs. Gardiner said as she lowered herself gracefully onto the settee where Elizabeth was seated at one end of the drawing room.

"He is indeed," Elizabeth replied, giving her aunt a sidelong glance.

"Come, Lizzy," her aunt prodded.

"These serious post-dinner discussions seem to be becoming a habit of ours, aunt." Elizabeth smirked, still refusing to elaborate any further on the young man in question.

"I do think it odd that you neglected to mention the gentleman a couple evenings ago, given the topics canvassed at that time."

"I had rather hoped you would not notice."

"I could hardly miss such a notable absence of the young man's name in our conversation after all your mother had to say on the subject."

"And yet you said nothing," Elizabeth arched an eyebrow at her aunt before returning her gaze to the occupants of the other end of the drawing room.

"Perhaps I meant to lull you into complacency before launching an attack."

"I say, aunt, perhaps you ought to speak with Colonel Forster whilst you are in the neighborhood. I am sure he has contacts at the Home Office who would be quite interested in your expertise in intelligence gathering."

Mrs. Gardiner laughed openly at her niece's cheeky response, "As my tactics have as of yet been unsuccessful in enabling me to secure the desired information, I shall put off soliciting a recommendation from the good colonel." After a moment she added, "Be serious though, Lizzy. What think you of Mr. Collins?"

Elizabeth hesitated before answering Mrs. Gardiner, her brow furrowing as she searched for an answer even she was not certain of as of yet, "In truth, I hardly know, aunt. I like him very much. He is kind and generous, and he has proved himself capable of finding humour in a number of situations — you know I dearly love to laugh. And yet I cannot find that I feel anything for him beyond the bond of kinship. Whats more, I am concerned that he does not entirely approve of my interest in subjects outside of the traditional female purview."

"You have known him but a short time, Lizzy, and my understanding is that he is just beginning to gain his footing in a sphere of society he has not fully come into yet. It would come as no surprise that he would be wary of flouting society's expectations from the outset when he is not yet secure of his place in it."

"It is not my intention to turn society on its head, aunt, but I do wish to have access to the knowledge that has formed the opinions of those who lead it and to be well-informed with regard to what is going on in the world in which I live — to not be shut out from matters that impact my own life and that of those around me merely because ladies are deemed too delicate to handle such things. Of what use are feminine accomplishments when our young men are being sent to their deaths on the continent and men are resorting to violence in their desperation to provide for their families. It is mere distraction — foolishness. While I understand men and women each have their own strengths, I would hope to be a true partner with my husband in all things. I would hope to marry a man who is equally as desirous of my insight into his matters of business and political views as I am of a husband who will play with his children and be engaged in their lives — as well as my own — far more than what is common in the first circles and even our own sphere." Elizabeth replied passionately.

"Do not misunderstand me, Lizzy. Our conversation of two days ago should be evidence enough of my belief that your intelligence ought not be constrained to these more trivial pursuits — so long as such endeavors do not have the unintended effect of causing you to think yourself above the company —" Mrs. Gardiner looked pointedly at her niece, who shifted uncomfortably on the settee as she recollected another person who, in her opinion, had certainly felt himself such. _Could she be guilty of the same offense?_ Mrs. Gardiner continued , "All I am trying to convey to you, my love, is that you have not given Mr. Collins a fair chance. You must take his circumstances into account as well as your own. Perhaps he will find that you are just the sort of young woman he desires to be his partner as he navigates these new waters, or perhaps you will not suit at all."

"I understand, aunt, and I do appreciate your insight. I had given little thought to the pressure the gentleman might be under given his circumstances. I merely wish to avoid rushing headlong into something that will prove just as disagreeable as my present circumstances. Whatever complaints I might have against papa at the moment, I would not wish to marry merely to escape an uncomfortable situation at home. I am still determined that only the deepest of love will induce me to matrimony. On that point, I am unwilling to compromise."

"Nor should you, my love. Just take care that you do not toss away the seeds of love before they have an opportunity to take root — whether that be with Mr. Collins or some other young man more deserving of your love."

~P&P~

The Bennets of Longbourn and their guests from town rarely exchanged gifts of any significance during the festive season outside of a smattering of new playthings for the youngest of the children from their doting elder cousins. It came as a pleasant surprise, therefore, when after the breakfast things were cleared away on Christmas morning, Mr. Collins not only added to the Gardiner children's stash an assortment of sweet treats, but also presented each of his cousins, including Mr. Bennet, his wife, and _all_ of their daughters, with a generous gift to mark the occasion.

He looked on with rapt attention as each of them opened their gifts. Mr. Bennet hummed in appreciation at the fine bottle of port Mr. Collins presented to him. Mary Bennet appeared genuinely moved at his selections of sheet music, and Jane gave the first genuine smile Elizabeth had seen in weeks when she was presented with the very parasol she had been prevented from purchasing for herself on account of being overly generous in lending her pocket allowance to her two youngest sisters (who, one might guess, were always a trifle tardy in repaying it — that is to say, they rarely did). Mrs. Bennet actually burst into tears when she first laid eyes on the fine hand-embroidered shawl Mr. Collins had chosen for her. The youngest Bennets were quite content with the assortment of ribbons Mr. Collins had bestowed upon them for their bonnet decorating ventures — he having chanced to select some of the very colours they each felt suited their complexions above all others. Mrs. Gardiner was later able to ascertain from the gentleman himself that a little extra coinage to the local shopkeepers had provided him with insight into which items his Bennet cousins lingered over during their visits to their corresponding shops. Impressed with both his thoughtfulness and resourcefulness, she assured him that his methods would remain their little secret.

While the rest of her family opened their gifts, Elizabeth sat clutching her own unopened present to her chest, marveling at her cousins generosity and taking great pleasure in such a happy gathering after so many weeks of turmoil. She was recalled from her observation of the others when the gentleman himself addressed her, "Will you not open yours, Cousin Elizabeth?"

"Of course," she smiled warmly and set to removing the delicate ribbon and tissue from her own gift. She was soon smoothing her hand over the elegant embossing of a beautiful leather-bound journal. She looked up at Mr. Collins with unrestrained wonder at such an unexpected gift.

The gentleman's face lit up in satisfaction as her obvious pleasure. "Our reading on the first evening of my last visit* and the subsequent pleasure I took in becoming better acquainted with your lively wit inspired me to provide a means for you to record a bit of that enchanting humour and insight that others might one day have the privilege of reading it."

"Oh lord, Mr. Collins! Do not encourage her!" Mrs. Bennet exclaimed, dabbing her forehead with a handkerchief to emphasize just how much Elizabeth's intellectual pursuits drove her to distraction. As an afterthought — likely inspired by the sudden need to adjust her new shawl more securely around her shoulders — she added, "Though the journal itself is quite lovely, of course. Perhaps just better suited to more private musings."

Both Elizabeth and Mr. Collins laughed good-naturedly at this intrusion. Mr. Collins, who had drawn near to Elizabeth during their exchange, turned back to her and caught her gaze with his own, "Happy Christmas, cousin."

"Happy Christmas," Elizabeth whispered in return.

~P&P~

Some little while later, the master of the manor himself joined his most recently arrived guest as he quietly observed the ladies engaged in some game or another with the young Gardiner children.

"You have been most generous in your gifts to Mrs. Bennet and myself, as well as our girls, Mr. Collins. I am not ignorant of the expense you must have incurred in such an endeavor. I am humbled by your kindness." Mr. Bennet glanced over at the younger man before adding, "I am impressed as well with your willingness to undertake such effort and expense simply so that you might bestow one gift in particular without drawing down accusations of impropriety."

Mr. Collins coloured slightly, but seeing the smirk playing at the elder gentleman's lips, he chose to ignore Mr. Bennet attempt at teasing and calmly replied, "Think nothing of it, sir. I am a man of simple tastes. I find that my income, though perhaps not large by society's standards, far exceeds my needs, and it brings me great pleasure to use it to bring some little happiness to those I hold dear. Your family has been most gracious in receiving me in as one of its own, and I was pleased to have the opportunity to repay the kindness."

"Your reassurances of affection for my family are all good and well, my boy, but I still find myself at a loss as to how one particular subject of discourse seems to have evaded us in all of our discussions over the course of this visit as well as your last."

"What subject might that be, sir?"

"I am wondering, Mr. Collins, when it is that you intend to ask my permission to court my Lizzy."

At this, Mr. Collins coloured once more and cleared his throat uncomfortably, "It is that obvious, is it?"

Mr. Bennet quirked an eyebrow at him in a manner remarkably like his daughter's and chuckled at the young man's discomfort. "Mrs. Bennet may be prone to fancying every young man of marriageable age in love with one of her daughters, but I do not think she is far off the mark in her recent observations."

"I believe myself to be in a fair way to be very much in love with her, sir," Mr. Collins responded with such simple sincerity, it left Mr. Bennet momentarily speechless.

"What is your hesitation then, if I may ask?"

"As her father, it every bit your right to ask, sir." Mr. Collins turned to him, offering a wan smile. "I assure you that my intentions are honourable. I do not wish to secure your consent or blessing until I am certain I shall have hers. I sense some hesitance on her part and wish to give her time to know her own mind on the subject. I have not known my cousin long, but from what I have come to know of her, I do not believe I would be doing myself any favors to press the issue prematurely. I would not wish to lose her entirely in my impatience to come to the point."

"That shows remarkable insight on your part, young man. I fear that perhaps her hesitancy to come under the rule of a husband is due at least in part to my indulging her interests as long as I have. At nearly one and twenty, however, I feel it a little late to attempt to curb her now. Besides, if your pursuit proves unsuccessful, I would then be left to deal with her wrath. Her mother plagues me enough as it is, so I think I shall leave well enough alone."

Mr. Collins further demonstrated his wisdom by keeping his own thoughts on this little speech to himself, and so the pair slipped into silence. It was not long before Mr. Bennet retired to his bookroom to enjoy some of the port Mr. Collins had so graciously bestowed upon him in the spirit of the season. As he departed, Mr. Collins could reflected that as grateful as he was for the opportunities Mr. Bennet afforded him, he was equally as thankful that while the daughter had gained more than her fair share of her father's wit, she was as unlike him in character as any two people could be.

~P&P~

Mr. Collins stood in such close proximity to Elizabeth that she could feel the warmth of his body roll off of him even through their many combined layers of clothing. She could feel the colour rising in her cheeks as Mrs. Bennet's indecorous exclamations of encouragement quickly rose over all other noise of celebration, drawing the collective attention of the company to her present predicament. She closed her eyes in mortification, breathing in deeply to compose herself — an effort that proved somewhat futile as his earthy, masculine scent filled her nostrils with each inhale. _She would murder her mother. Or Lydia. Perhaps both._ Opening her eyes once more, she took half a step back and glanced up at the gentleman before her who, though appearing somewhat more amused than she, was betrayed in his embarrassment by the decidedly red hue at the tips of his ears.

"Oh, just go on and kiss her, Mr. Collins!" Mrs. Bennet bellowed from across the room, clapping her hands together in unrestrained glee. She had clearly been at the punch a trifle more than was prudent.

"I feel I must congratulate you on such a festive selection of greenery, cousin." Mr. Collins smirked, drawing Elizabeth's attention away from her mother and back to himself.

"You think this my doing, cousin?" Elizabeth questioned, her brow quirking up just so.

"Did you not oversee the placement of the greenery last evening?" his grin, despite how handsome it rendered his face, was insufferable.

"That—" Elizabeth nodded her head toward the offending bundle haphazardly strung to the bow of holly gracing the doorway above them with what looked suspiciously like one of the ribbons Mr. Collins had gifted to Lydia that very morning. _Yes. Both of them._ "—was not placed there at my instruction."

"There is no need to become indignant, cousin. I think it sets the arrangement off quite nicely." All evidence of embarrassment was gone. He was quite obviously enjoying himself.

"You are insufferable," Elizabeth huffed, barely concealing the laughter that threatened to escape at the ridiculousness of their situation.

"And you, my dear, are lovely," his expression morphing into one of such sincerity, Elizabeth could not help but jest to prevent the tension that threatened to overtake the moment from taking root.

"Have you been into the punch, Mr. Collins?" she narrowed her eyes at him teasingly.

A flicker of something like sadness crossed his face before he replied in a muted tone, "I only speak as I find, Elizabeth."

Elizabeth was uncertain whether it was the use of her Christian name or seeing the gentleman raise his arm over their heads to pluck a berry from the mistletoe that caused her breath to hitch in her throat. She watched in wide-eyed silence as he lowered his arm and held the berry out between them. He glanced at the little white orb with a faint smile before returning his gaze to hers. Mr. Collins reached out with the hand on which Elizabeth was not presently fixated and took hold of one of hers. She gasped at the unexpected contact and watched in wonder as he bowed over her hand and left a lingering kiss on her knuckles.

Righting himself, he moved in ever so slightly so that he might speak for her ears only, "Despite my own desires, dear cousin, I would never wish to force my attentions upon you." He leaned back just far enough so that he might meet her eyes, "It is my dearest hope, however, that there will come a day that such attentions will be both welcome and commonplace, though with perhaps less of an audience." He offered her a beatific smile before tucking the berry into his coat pocket and patting his pocket lightly, "Until then," he winked at her mischievously and led them the remainder of the way into the drawing room, depositing her safely beside her aunt before attending to her mother and taking the brunt of her disappointment for himself.

Elizabeth stared after him for a moment, before turning to speak to her aunt. She stopped short at Mrs. Gardiner's shrewd look. Elizabeth rolled her eyes, "Stop it, aunt." Mrs. Gardiner merely chuckled and patted her niece's hand.

Across the room, Mr. Collins received a knowing look of his own accompanied by a throaty laugh from Mr. Bennet, who was just preparing to retire from the company. "Well played, son. If you happen to find yourself in need of an audience, you shall know where to find me." And with that he was gone to seek refuge in his bookroom while the remainder of the party stayed behind to keep company with one another and entertain a myriad of emotions that seemed to have taken on a life of their own.

 ***You may recall that in this variation Mr. Collins read from Jane Austen's "Sense and Sensibility" (then published anonymously, but noted to be "By A Lady") on his first evening at Longbourn.**

 **Thank you for your patience in awaiting this installment. As always, I appreciate your feedback and speculation. Please click below to leave a review. You may register (free) and follow this story to receive notifications when new chapters are posted. Wishing you all a beautiful evening and a lovely week ahead. ~ JG**


	21. Chapter 19

**A/N: The happiest of Mondays to you all! And if it has not been so happy, I hope this latest installment makes it just a wee bit better. Shout out to all my stateside readers in the PNW, Texas, and Florida - my prayers have been with you this past week. Much of my own family is spread out all over Florida, and I am relieved to tell you that they are all safe, if a little worse for wear.**

 **CHAPTER NINETEEN**

Having satisfactorily completed all those matters of business he intended to address prior to commencing celebrations of the festive season, Mr. Darcy stepped from his study into the busy hall of his London townhouse. The hall was a din of activity, teeming with footmen and an assortment of other servants as they adorned the banisters and doorways with elegant arrangements of greenery in preparation for the family's Christmas celebrations the following day. Catching sight of one arrangement in particular, Mr. Darcy tsked quietly under his breath. Observing Mrs. Wallace, the Darcys' long-time housekeeper, he walked over to join her where she was standing at the foot of the grand staircase overseeing the work underway in the great hall.

Clearing his throat audibly to catch the harried woman's attention, he inquired, "Mrs. Wallace, did we not decide against the use of mistletoe in the greenery displays this year?" Though his tone was respectful rather than severe, the question seemed to trouble the woman.

"We did, master," Mrs. Wallace turned to him, her brow wrinkled in confusion, "However, I was under the impression you had amended your instructions."

"Whatever made you think that, Mrs. Wallace?" Mr. Darcy asked, a suspicion forming in his mind as to the source of his housekeeper's information.

"Colonel Fitzwilliam—" she began before a chuckle from her master stopped her short.

"Just as I suspected," he smirked, "My cousin seems to be attempting to have some fun at my expense, Mrs. Wallace — and yours too, I might add. However at home he might make himself at Darcy House, I would ask that in the future you run any of Colonel Fitzwilliam's requests that do not pertain to the immediate procurement of food by me prior to carrying them out — to do otherwise might result in a situation that would not be beneficial to either of us."

"How so, sir?"

"You do recall who is joining us for dinner tomorrow evening, do you not?" he raised an eyebrow playfully, waiting for realization to dawn on the older woman who he had quite adored since his own childhood.

"Of course, Master Darcy. The Bingleys and … oh!"

"Quite so," he laughed at the housekeeper's look of wide-eyed horror, "I should not like to find out how Miss Bingley would act given such an opportunity."

"Not for the world, Mr. Darcy!" she cried, before rushing off to enlist the nearest footman to remove the little bunches of white berries from those arrangements that had already been hung. "And do check the other rooms as well, John!" she cried after him as he scurried off to do her bidding.

Mr. Darcy watched in mild amusement as his staff hurried about in near panic — word obviously spreading as to the reason behind the last minute change. His smile vanished, however, and a shudder overtook him at the thought of what might have been had his cousin's prank been successful. He sighed as his mind briefly wandered to how differently he might have felt were another young lady — one whose eyes brimmed with intelligence and whose smile he coveted with all his being — to have been one of their party. The thought was quickly dismissed, however, to be replaced with a firm resolution to keep a watchful eye on Richard the following evening. He might not be able to have the woman he desired, but he certainly had no intention of falling prey to Caroline Bingley.

~P&P~

"Louisa!" Miss Bingley burst into her sister's chambers at the Hursts' townhouse.

"How might I assist you, Caroline," Mrs. Hurst replied to her sister's outburst with an air of indifference that spoke to the frequency of such histrionics on the part of her younger sister. Indeed, the lady appeared little inclined to interrupt her toilette despite Miss Bingley's sudden entrance into her private chambers.

Caroline threw herself on a nearby chaise lounge in an overly dramatic fashion, failing in her attempt to garner her sister's attention as that lady was interested in little other than her own reflection and catching her maid's attention as she solicited the servant's assistance in arranging her hair. The lack of further comment on her apparent distress did little to dissuade Miss Bingley from pursuing her point.

"I cannot believe Charles was unwilling to advance my allowance, Louisa! I have _nothing_ to wear to dinner with the Darcys this evening. Our brother simply does not understand that a lady must show herself to best advantage. I feel certain that with some some little encouragement and further proof of my worthiness to take on the role of Mistress of Pemberley, Mr. Darcy is very likely to come to the point at last in this coming season. He will, after all, require a sponsor for dear Georgiana when she makes her debut. Who better than a his own wife?"

Wisely refraining from offering her thoughts on her younger sister's expectations regarding the coming season and their host for the evening, Mrs. Hurst responded, "It is unlikely you could have had anything made in time without considerable expense anyway, Caroline."

Despite having been momentarily distracted from the wretchedness of her present predicament by her hopes concerning Mr. Darcy, Miss Bingley was able return to her former desolation with remarkable haste. "It is an expense our brother can well afford, Louisa. That is simply no excuse," came Miss Bingley's vehement response.

"Why not choose something from among my dresses, Caroline. I have several new ones that might suit you," Louisa offered with a sigh, quickly tiring of her sister's complaints.

"Truly, Louisa?!" Caroline all but leapt to her feet as she moved toward her sister's wardrobe, "You are kindness itself!" Her attention was so focused on perusing the garments in question that she missed the slight roll of Mrs. Hurst's eyes she might have caught in that lady's reflection if she had cared to pay her sister any attention.

"Do you think there will be mistletoe hung among the greenery at Darcy House, sister?" Caroline called from across the room.

"It hardly matters, my dear. A chaste kiss to the hand or cheek under the mistletoe does not constitute a compromise."

Caroline thought it best not to divulge to even her sister that a chaste kiss to the hand or cheek was hardly what she had in mind for the Master of Pemberley. Finding something to her liking, she held it up for her sister's approval, "This one, do you think?"

"Yes, I daresay that one will be most becoming," Mrs. Hurst approved with barely a glance in her sister's direction, "But you must hurry and get ready, Caroline. It is nearly time for us to depart."

"My word! Why did you not say, Louisa?!" Caroline sputtered upon glancing at the clock. Gathering the dress in her arms, she very nearly ran from the room in her haste, yelling for her maid before she had even reached her bedchamber. Her brother had been far less forgiving of her inclination for being fashionably late in recent weeks. Unfortunately, it was generally Mr. Hurst's staff who suffered for the gentleman's newly acquired sensibility.

~P&P~

Christmas Dinner at Darcy House was tasteful and elegant. Miss Darcy presided over the table as hostess with quiet grace, but hers was yet a nominal role. Mrs. Wallace, who managed such things given Miss Darcy's youth and the absence of a mistress to take over such household duties, had held to the pattern of simplicity established by her former mistress. Some of the guests may have thought the affair lacking in the richness and abundance due the Darcy name, but at least one of them felt it prudent to withhold such observations and instead redouble her efforts to demonstrate her own superior abilities as hostess at the earliest opportunity.

Mr. Darcy could not help but note his friend's enduring melancholy and was only thankful that Bingley's tempered enthusiasm made him an excellent dinner partner to his sister, by whom he was seated. The two shared a subdued, but friendly conversation. Contrary to Miss Bingley's assertions otherwise, Mr. Bingley and Georgiana Darcy felt only a friendly affection for one another, nothing beyond. Mr. Darcy himself held no hopes in that direction, being of little inclination to consider his sister's marriage to _anyone_ at present. Mr. Darcy studiously avoided Miss Bingley's frequent glances in his direction while the lady herself inwardly cursed her misfortune at being seated by Colonel Fitzwilliam rather than his infinitely more desirable cousin.

Conversation flowed more easily with each successive course and refilling of wine glasses, and by the end of the meal, the majority of the party found themselves inclined to be in good favor with the collective company.

~P&P~

Despite Mr. Hurst's protests at forgoing an opportunity to sample the offerings of Mr. Darcy's liquor cabinet, his host was most unwilling to leave his sister alone with Mr. Bingley's sisters for any length of time. The gentlemen therefore followed the ladies to the drawing room where, much to Miss Bingley's chagrin, Colonel Fitzwilliam would insist upon singling her out to continue a conversation they had begun at dinner. It was all she could do to remain polite in the face of her disappointment at being monopolized by anyone other than Mr. Darcy.

Mr. Darcy himself found his cousin's inclination for prolonged conversation with Bingley's sister curious, but he shrugged it off as a product of Richard's tendency to amuse himself with the foibles of others. As always, Miss Bingley provided ample fodder for a mind so disposed for amusement. Mr. Darcy occupied himself for some time with his sister's comfort and did his best to carry on a pleasant conversation with Mr. Bingley and Mrs. Hurst — Mr. Hurst having dozed off almost as soon as he was seated on the chaise lounge at one side of the room.

"… we must solicit my cousin's opinion on that matter, Miss Bingley," Mr. Darcy heard his cousin utter from across the room. Looking over his shoulder to where the colonel and Miss Bingley stood in close proximity to one of the drawing room windows, it struck him as rather singular that his cousin should have wandered so far from the rest of their party in the company of that lady. Mr. Darcy excused himself from his companions and rose to join his cousin across the room. As he approached the ill-matched pair, something in the window caught his eye. Schooling his expression to conceal his initial reaction, he slowed his approach, stopping a couple paces from his cousin and Miss Bingley.

"How might I be of service, Richard?" he addressed his cousin and graced his friend's sister with an acknowledging nod and smile.

Craning his neck as though trying to get a better look at something outside the window, Colonel Fitzwilliam entreated his cousin to come closer that he might see some unknown object of fascination.

"I would be more than happy to do so, Richard," Mr. Darcy smirked, "as soon as you have fulfilled your obligation to Miss Bingley."

The colonel dropped all pretense of looking out the window, whipping his head around and gaping at his cousin before a look of utter defeat took over his features.

"Whatever do you mean, Mr. Darcy?" Miss Bingley inquired, look back and forth between the cousins in confusion.

Mr. Darcy, his lips still curled in a smile, merely shifted his gaze upward to a little cluster of leaves and berries that hung neatly from a garland that was draped low in the window at which they stood. Miss Bingley gasped and began to sputter as the colonel reach up and plucked one of the white berries from the offending article. Colonel Fitzwilliam then quite graciously took the bewildered lady's hand in his and bowing over it, placed a light kiss upon her gloved fingers.

"Happy Christmas, madam," he murmured. The colonel then glanced over at the room's other occupants who were staring at the trio with unrestrained wonder and seeing his younger cousin with the tea pot paused mid-pour declared, "Ah! I see Georgiana is serving the tea. Shall we join them?" As the colonel passed his cousin in his hasty retreat, he leaned in and whispered, "Well played there, Darce."

Mr. Darcy chuckled quietly and then turned to offer the unwitting victim of their sparring his arm so that they might join the rest of their party for tea. As he escorted Miss Bingley across the room, he nodded to a nearby footman who moved quickly to dispose of the small cluster of mistletoe that had been the source of that evening's mischief.

~P&P~

"Well, Richard, I suppose I now understand the reason for your late arrival at dinner this evening."

"Mrs. Wallace was very adamant when I arrived for breakfast this morning that she would hear nothing about restoring the decorations I so generously bestowed the day prior to their rightful place. There was nothing for it but to take matters into my own hands," Richard said matter-of-factly, picking as some lint on his sleeve.

"I should have know something was afoot. I cannot say that I have ever known you to be late for a meal in your life," Mr. Darcy returned, eliciting a shrug from his cousin.

"Oh do not look so sullen, Richard. I daresay you escaped relatively unscathed from your own bit of treachery."

"Treachery? You are far too dramatic, Darce."

"How do you imagine Miss Bingley would have reacted had she discovered herself beneath the mistletoe with the Master of Pemberley rather than a colonel is His Majesty's army?" Colonel Fitzwilliam grimaced in response to his cousin's question.

"Oh dear, Fitzwilliam," Georgianna said upon joining her brother and cousin, "I do not think I shall ever be able to forget the expression on Miss Bingley's face as Richard reached up to pluck a berry from the mistletoe. I thought I should choke in my effort to keep from laughing. It is a wonder I managed to keep from spilling the tea all over poor Mr. Bingley!" She giggled at the remembrance, clasping her fingers lightly over her mouth to stifle the sound of her mirth. Far from containing it however, her comment and gesture instead had the unintended result of sending her cousin into a fit of laughter, and even Mr. Darcy could not keep himself from joining in their mirth.

"All the same," Mr. Darcy began once they had sufficiently vented their good humor, "I would thank you not to entertain yourself at my expense in such a manner in the future, Richard." He eyed his cousin pointedly. The colonel had the good grace to look ashamed, holding his hands up before him in concession.

Failing to stifle a yawn, Georgiana Darcy smiled adoringly at her relations.

"Are we such dull company, cousin?" Richard teased her.

"You, cousin? Never!" she giggled, "I do, however, fear I am unequal to prolonging this happy day. I will retire and leave you in my brother's most excellent company." She rose to leave them.

"Most excellent company?!" The colonel returned in mock astonishment and then turned to Mr. Darcy with a smirk, "How disappointed our dear Georgiana will be when she enters society and finds out how sorely used she has been to be sequestered here in your miserable company all these years."

"It is rather astonishing that our cousin should choose to spend so much of his time at Darcy House when he is in town given how unbearable the company is, is it not, Georgie?" Mr. Darcy addressed his sister.

"I merely put up with your company for Georgiana's sake, cousin," the colonel countered before Miss Darcy could reply.

"And Cook," Georgiana interjected.

"Ah, yes. And Cook," Richard nodded in hearty agreement.

Mr. Darcy rolled his eyes at his cousin and gave his sister a teasing look for her part in encouraging their cousin's antics.

"Well, I truly must leave you now," Georgiana declared, rising from where she was seated and moving to quit the room. As she reached the door, she turned back and looking at her brother, smiled, "It has been good to hear you laugh today, Fitzwilliam. It is a sound I have missed most dearly." She slipped out, quietly closing the door behind her before he could reply.

In the wake of her departure, the colonel turned back to Mr. Darcy and made to interrupt whatever thoughts of a more serious nature were clearly threatening to intrude upon his cousin's peace of mind,"I underestimated you this evening, cousin. I shall not make the same mistake again."

"Ah, you forget that I have been outmaneuvering the match-making mamas of the ton and their conniving daughters for nigh on a decade, Richard. I would venture to say that even Old Boney has nothing on their tactics for entrapment." Mr. Darcy replied, the upward turn of his lips hidden behind his glass as he took a sip of the fine brandy Mr. Hurst had been denied earlier in the evening.

"Perhaps I might persuade some of them to assist me in training my men when I report to Brighton this summer?"

"As long as you leave Miss Bingley out of it."

Richard merely chuckled in response. A comfortable silence fell between them as Mr. Darcy became lost in his own thoughts and the colonel watched him closely, noting with concern the sadness that took over his cousin's visage in unguarded moments. It had been an enjoyable evening. His cousin's smiles and laughter had indeed been a welcome change from the brooding of the past several weeks, but it was clear that even now, all was not well with Fitzwilliam Darcy.

 **As always, I love to hear your thoughts, speculations, and constructive criticism (which I do in fact note for consideration during the editing process). Click below to REVIEW or create a FREE account and FOLLOW this story for notifications when new chapters are posted. Enjoy the rest of your week!**

 **According to my outline, we are next headed back to Hertfordshire where Mr. Collins will (reluctantly) depart and the officers (sans Wickham) will dine at Longbourn. It won't long after that before Jane and Lizzy head off to London with their aunt and uncle - and what fun shall commence then! ;)**


	22. Chapter 20

**A/N: Hello, dear readers. I am not fully satisfied with this chapter, but I have stepped away and come back to it a number of times to no avail. At this point, it's time to move on and revisit it during the editing process at some future date. It establishes the groundwork it's intended to, even if not with the finesse I would have liked.**

 **Thank you for all of your kind reviews on the last couple chapters. To the reader who felt the last several chapters have lacked any forward momentum, I understand the sentiment. They are, however, necessary for character development, even if their purpose will not be fully understood until further along in the story. I don't want to introduce scenarios down the line that are entirely out of left field, so I have to lay the groundwork now. Feel free to step away and return when you can read through to the end (though I warn you that's likely to be quite some months from now). My own husband, impatient reader that he is, has asked my forgiveness for not beginning my story until the first draft is complete, so I can hardly fault you. ;)**

 **I will say that the pace (in terms of major events of the story) will be picking up a notch once we get to London (a trip we will be making in the next chapter). I am VERY excited about some of those scenes, a number of which I have had extensive notes and preliminary dialogue prepared for for several months now. At any rate, enjoy this quick chapter and hopefully you'll be hearing more from me in a week or two. :)**

 **CHAPTER TWENTY**

A mere two days after Christmas found Mr. Collins bidding adieu to his fair cousins and generous hosts once more. Prior to his departure, the gentleman inquired as to how long Jane and Elizabeth would reside with their aunt and uncle in London, hopeful that his own visit to his uncle several months hence might coincide with their visit. As the duration of the ladies' stay was as of yet uncertain, however, he was forced to depart with no indication of when he might see his fair cousin again. His reluctance to do so was evident in his subdued manner and more than one lingering look bestowed upon the object of his affection, but he maintained a happy countenance throughout their farewells and was soon tucked into a hired carriage and on the road back to Hunsford and the responsibilities that awaited him there.

The whole of an afternoon was not adequate for Mrs. Bennet to vent her bile over once again having a young man leave the neighborhood without declaring himself. She chastised Elizabeth relentlessly for not being more encouraging of Mr. Collins' attentions, completely oblivious to how discomfiting her admonishment of one daughter was to another. Outwardly, Jane bore the reminder of her own failure at securing Mr. Bingley remarkably well, but she was visibly relieved when her aunt offered a means of escape, requesting that her eldest niece assist the Gardiner's nursery maid with her young cousins. Elizabeth was not entirely at ease herself, however, under the watchful eyes of her father and aunt, she endured her mother's complaints with characteristic good humour.

~P&P~

A cessation in matrimonial admonishments did not come until some days later when the prospect of several of the officers dining at Longbourn provided a welcome distraction for Mrs. Bennet. Mrs. Bennet's — and indeed, her youngest daughter's — disappointment when the officers arrived without Mr. Wickham as one of their number was palpable. Still, the Mistress of Longbourn was ever a gracious hostess. She welcomed Mr. Denny, Mr. Sanderson, and Captain Carter cheerfully, making the necessary introductions as the Gardiners were not yet acquainted with any of the local militia.

"It is unfortunate that Mr. Wickham could not join us this evening. He is well, I hope," Mrs. Bennet inquired, obviously hoping for more than news of his health.

Mr. Sanderson and Captain Carter exchanged a significant look, as though they shared a secret, but it was Mr. Denny who spoke up, "I am afraid Mr. Wickham has been called away on some business to Barnet. He sent his regards and I am sure will be disappointed to have missed such a fine meal with your lovely family, Mrs. Bennet." Mr. Denny sought to soothe his hostess.

"Is that not where Mary King has gone to visit her uncle?" Kitty asked of no one in particular, though she cast a smug look in her younger sister's direction.

"I do believe it is, Kitty." Mrs. Bennet replied, the corners of her lips turning down at the realization that the gentleman's destination might well be no mere coincidence.

"How interesting. One should not be surprised, I suppose. Miss King has inherited ten thousand pounds. That can not but recommend her to those gentlemen inclined to marry for more material advantages. It is a pity that her good fortune may be the cause of disappointment for other ladies in the neighborhood to whom Mr. Wickham _formerly_ paid his attentions, however, that is the way of the world, is it not? It is not as though Miss King _intentionally_ undermined his suit with another lady." Kitty Bennet's little speech was said with an air of indifference, but a pointed look at her younger sister as she finished made her intentions quite clear to those who knew of the disagreement that subsisted between them.

Despite the awkward tension Kitty's little speech had wrought amongst the company, Elizabeth was forced to stifle a laugh when the smug expression that had settled on Kitty's features was suddenly replaced with a wince and a silent exchange between Kitty and Jane, who was seated across from her looking at her younger sister in silent reproof. It was oddly satisfying to not be the object of Jane's correction for once.

The silence was broken when Lydia, glaring at Kitty, replied, "It does not matter one jot where Mr. Wickham goes or who he chooses to spend his time with. Though he may be handsome and ever so amusing, he is no more important to us than any other acquaintance.

Despite her declaration to the contrary, that Lydia was affected by Mr. Wickham's absence was quite evident. She barely touched her soup and the plate of fish that followed seemed to have been likely to suffer the same fate, had not Mr. Denny intervened.

"Miss Lydia, I may not have Mr. Wickham's charm and handsome features, but I hope that I am not so dull as to make you regret the company altogether." Lydia looked up as he spoke, and catching the twinkle of humour in his eye, she could not but smile. Mr. Denny was not so intoxicatingly charming as Mr. Wickham, but she could appreciate his concern for her feelings — even if she was unwilling to acknowledge her disappointment to the company at large.

"That remains to be seen, Mr. Denny," she teased, feigning a yawn, "How shall you entertain me?"

This was all the encouragement the gentleman wanted, "Let me see," he replied thoughtfully, "Shall I recount for you the time my brother and I fooled my dear sister into believing she had been abducted by highwaymen or would the incident of slipping a wayward frog into her half boots be more suited to your sensibilities?" Mr. Denny's face lit up as Lydia's eyes went wide in surprise.

"My gracious, Mr. Denny! I hope you were soundly beaten in either event!" Mrs. Bennet's outburst drew chuckles from the gentlemen and smiles from more than one of her other daughters.

"I assure you I was, madam." Mr. Denny replied in mock solemnity, " _Most_ soundly."

Despite her initial protest, Mrs. Bennet was just as engaged as her youngest daughter as Mr. Denny spoke of his youth in Surrey and the sister he had teased mercilessly as a child but whom he quite doted on as they had both grown into adulthood. Mr. Denny laughed in turn as Lydia recounted a number of mischievous dealings amongst her sisters. It was noted that while Lydia played her part, it was Elizabeth who seemed to instigate an inordinate number of the scrapes the sisters had found themselves in during much of their childhood. In these stories, Jane was, of course, ever the voice of reason — or attempted to be, at least.

The gentleman spoke likewise of his elder brother — and heir to his father's estate — with utmost respect and admiration. In the course of their conversation, it came to light that though his father had the means to pay another to take his place amongst the militia, Mr. Denny had desired some occupation and thus declined his father's kind offer. He spoke fondly of many of the men of different walks of life he had come to know in his time in the militia, the other two officers in their party among those he most admired — though they teased him soundly for his sentimentality.

The dining room at Longbourn being of modest proportions, its occupants were seated in close enough proximity that the entire company might converse at their leisure — not that lack of proximity had ever been a deterrent to any of the Bennets who wished to be heard. In the absence of the more charismatic Mr. Wickham, Mr. Denny positively shone. Despite having a more subdued manner than the other gentleman, his conversation was engaging and the genuine warmth of feeling he conveyed did not fail to capture the attention of those of the party inclined to show interest — indeed, even Mr. Bennet was heard to make an inquiry or share his opinion on one or another of the topics discussed over the course of the meal (and that these little contributions demonstrated a genuine interest rather than a desire to tease was somewhat remarkable).

~P&P~

"You seem to have a calming influence on my youngest sister, sir." Mary addressed Mr. Denny, only to be drowned out by a bit of raucous laughter originating from the corner of the drawing room where Lydia held court with the other two officers and Mrs. Bennet. Shifting her gaze from where it had been drawn to the source of their interruption back to the gentleman seated near her, she noted his amused expression and shrugged, "Well, perhaps calming is not precisely the word I was looking for, but you seem to have a positive influence on her nonetheless."

The gentleman chuckled and nodded his acknowledgment, his gaze shifting back to Miss Lydia and his fellow officers. "I am happy to have been able to provide a momentary distraction, however fleeting," Mr. Denny replied at length, and then, skipping a beat, added, "Your sister reminds me very much of a young lady I once knew."

The gentleman supplied no further explanation as Mary considered him thoughtfully. Though her curiosity was piqued, she felt that to pursue further information the gentleman himself did not seem inclined to divulge would be pressing the bounds of propriety.

Mr. Bennet retired early from the company, as was his wont, and Mrs. Bennet soon commanded Mr. Denny's presence amongst the other officers, where he played his part in entertaining the ladies and Mr. Gardiner until it was time for the gentlemen to take their leave.

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	23. Chapter 21

**CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE**

As her uncle's footman handed her elder sister into the waiting carriage, Elizabeth Bennet stole one last glance back at the imposing facade of the townhouse they had just departed. Though not one of the most sought after addresses in London, it was in one of the more fashionable neighborhoods and spoke to the wealth and privilege of its inhabitants. A slight movement of the drapes in a window just above her caught Elizabeth's notice, causing her gaze to shift and her delicate lips to curve downward ever so slightly.

A soft clearing of a throat behind her alerted Elizabeth to the footman's being now prepared to hand her in after her sister. Accepting his hand, she smiled her thanks, which he returned in kind before securing the carriage door behind her. As the carriage lurched forward, Elizabeth peered across to where Jane sat, staring unseeing out the carriage window. Their visit had not gone as either of them had hoped. Even were there no Mr. Bingley to speak of, the cold reception they had received from Caroline Bingley — one whom Jane Bennet had genuinely regarded as a friend — was enough to quell the hopes and expectations of even that young lady's avid optimism. Elizabeth had never believed either of Mr. Bingley's sisters to be sincere in their affections for Jane, but she had hoped that renewing the acquaintance once in town would at least have the benefit of placing her sister back in Mr. Bingley's notice. All hope on either front now appeared lost. Elizabeth moved to sit beside her despondent sister, adjusting the blankets around them before taking Jane's hand in her own and squeezing it gently.

As Jane turned to face her, Elizabeth made to reassure her but had scarcely begun before her sister gently cut her off, "Please, Lizzy. I do not wish to speak of it."

"Jane—"

" _Later_ , Lizzy," Jane implored her in a whisper before turning her gaze back out the window. The remainder of the ride back to Gracechurch Street passed in silence, one of the ladies resigning herself to her fate and the other contemplating how this most recent impediment to her sister's happiness might be overcome.

~P&P~

Caroline Bingley stepped away from the drawing room window, brushing against the elegant silk curtains as she moved to a seat closer to the fire. She congratulated herself on in having rid herself of her unwanted guests prior to her brother returning from his outing with Mr. Darcy. She had hoped that merely ignoring Jane Bennet's letters would be hint enough that she did not wish to continue the acquaintance. With such a mother, she should have known those country upstarts would be more determined than to allow subtle hints to sway them from pursuing their prize. Miss Bingley therefore made every effort to make it clear that whatever hopes Jane Bennet entertained of becoming Mrs. Bingley were in vain. With the loss of the prize before them, she hoped the Bennet _ladies_ (little though she thought they deserved the title) would themselves allow the acquaintance to comes to its natural end as they shifted their sights to more easily attainable prey.

Caroline had consequently been cold and distant, offering the barest of civilities. Conversation was stilted, at best. The only topic she latched onto with any degree of enthusiasm was the entirely fabricated subject of her brother's growing attachment to Miss Darcy. She had been passionate in her praise of Miss Darcy's beauty and accomplishments, artfully framing several of her comments in the context of her brother's opinions of the young lady. Miss Bingley noted that Miss Elizabeth arched her brow questioningly at such insinuations on more than one occasion, but as the arrows had clearly hit their intended mark with the elder Miss Bennet, Caroline paid no mind to the younger of the two sisters. Indeed, the physical evidence of Miss Jane Bennet's disappointment was so obvious that it provided Caroline with the perfect excuse to hurry the ladies' departure. Her exclamations over how pale her dear Jane had suddenly become and how much she feared for her health should she not return home to rest immediately were made with an enthusiasm that rivaled that of the young lady's mother herself. Caroline rang to have the ladies carriage readied and insisted she would not dream of selfishly keeping her friend another moment given the circumstances — particularly when the ladies had such a long journey back to _Cheapside_ ahead of them.

Caroline huffed loudly as she sat most ungracefully down in the large chair closest to the fire. She cursed her lot at having had to entertain the Bennet sisters on her own as her own sister, Mrs. Hurst, had been indisposed that morning. Although Louisa's complaints of nausea had become commonplace in recent weeks, causing her to keep largely to her rooms, Caroline held little sympathy for her. Being ignorant of such things herself, Miss Bingley believed her sister to be exploiting her present state so that she might feign illness and escape such unpleasant encounters as she herself had been forced to endure. It is difficult to say whether this was a more accurate rendering of the subject of such unspoken accusations or of the character of the one making them. In either case, that Louisa had become less and less sympathetic with Caroline's grousing regarding Mr. Darcy's inattentiveness and Charles's continued pining over the loss of Miss Bennet only served to exacerbate her younger sister's uncharitable feelings toward her.

Such ungenerous reflections were interrupted as the sounds of someone's arrival downstairs intruded on Miss Bingley's consciousness. As no servant arrived to announce a visitor, she accurately concluded that her brother and his friend had finally returned. Caroline stood quickly, brushing out her skirts and catching a quick glimpse of herself in an adjacent mirror before hurrying out the door to join the gentlemen below. She slowed only as she approached the staircase leading down to the grand foyer. Stretching to her full height, she assumed a regal air as she gracefully descended the staircase, finding Mr. Darcy waiting unaccompanied near the door, still wearing his great coat and holding his hat and gloves and staring down the hall toward her brother in law's study where the retreating back of her brother could just be seen disappearing through Mr. Hurst's study door.

"Mr. Darcy! It is such a pleasure to see you!" Miss Bingley greeted him in a honeyed tone.

Her sudden appearance at his side made the gentleman start, but he quickly recovered and donned his usual mask of indifference, "Ah, Miss Bingley. How do you fare this morning?" He returned her greeting with little warmth, an absence which the lady failed to notice.

"Oh, you can have no idea, Mr. Darcy. It has been such a trying morning!" she returned, glancing down the hallway where her brother had disappeared, "But why did Charles leave you standing here in this manner? You must excuse his abominable manners, Mr. Darcy. Do come in and make yourself comfortable in the drawing room. I will ring for tea and we may exchange stories of how we have passed the morning. I do hope yours has been more pleasant than mine."

"I thank you for your hospitality, Miss Bingley, however, your brother has left me thus at my own request. He is merely retrieving some documents he wishes me to review and then I must be on my way. I am quite content to wait here." Mr. Darcy glanced across the foyer to where Mr. Hurst's butler stood at the ready should he be needed.

Miss Bingley merely laughed at his reluctance, "You cannot mean to leave without taking any refreshment, sir! Why you and Charles have been out all morning!"

"You are very kind, Miss Bingley. However, your brother and I have already taken luncheon at White's."

"I see," Miss Bingley replied curtly, the honey of her earlier attempts turning bitter in her mouth.

They stood there awkwardly for a moment. Mr. Darcy refused to encourage the lady in her solicitations, but he could not help but notice her eye was repeatedly drawn to the hall where her brother would emerge at any moment. The gentleman was somewhat unsettled by her manner, but he felt approaching the issue head on the best way to rid himself of her unwanted attentions. Better have at it and be done. With a sigh, Mr. Darcy broke the uncomfortable silence, "Is there something particular you wished to say, Miss Bingley?"

The lady met his eyes with a determined gleam, "Jane Bennet is in London."

~P&P~

"Well? Had you a pleasant visit?" Madeline Gardiner eagerly greeted her nieces in the front hall on their return to their uncle's home in Gracechurch Street. She had taken Jane's hands in her own, smiling brightly in expectation of hearing news of the success of their visit. Mrs. Gardiner's hopeful inquiry was returned with a mere nod of her eldest niece's head as she offered a wan smile and refused to meet her aunt's eye. Troubled by Jane's lack of enthusiasm, she looked to Elizabeth, brow furrowed in question. Elizabeth shook her head almost imperceptibly.

Readily taking the hint, Mrs. Gardiner squeezed Jane's hands, still captured in her own, and resumed the cheerful aspect with which she had greeted her two favorites, "Well, Jane. The children have been asking after you this past half hour at least. Should you like to visit with them in the nursery, or shall we take some tea and refreshments first?"

Happy of an escape from the well-meaning concern of her sister and aunt, Jane accepted the kindly proffered retreat, "If it agreeable to you, aunt, I believe I shall join my cousins. Their imaginations are so lively. I do so love to watch them play."

"Of course, my dear, though I expect you will not be permitted to remain a spectator for long."

The corners of Jane's lips drew up ever so slightly at Mrs. Gardiner's response. Handing her cloak and gloves to the waiting footman, she told her aunt she would join the rest of the family for dinner as she expected she would need to rest and refresh herself after playing with her cousins for a time. Elizabeth and Mrs. Gardiner stood watching her retreating form for a moment before turning toward one another.

At her aunt's arched brow, Elizabeth sighed, "Come aunt, we have much to discuss."

Taking Elizabeth's arm, Madeline Gardiner led them to the drawing room where they could discuss the ill-fated visit at length in relative privacy.

~P&P~

Although Jane Bennet still clearly suffered under the weight of her recent disappointments, an afternoon spent in lighthearted amusement with her young cousins seemed to have lifted her spirits considerably. She joined the rest of the family at dinner in a state of tolerably equanimity. The two eldest Gardiner children had joined the adults at table given the absence of guests, and between the gently administered admonishments on their tables manners from their mother, they alternately sung Jane's praises and bemoaned their Cousin Lizzy's absence from their afternoon amusements.

Seeking to at once placate her young cousins and satisfy her own desire to be out of doors, Elizabeth offered some consolation for her previous desertion, "Perhaps if the weather continues as mild as it has been thus far on our visit, we might bundle up and walk to the park tomorrow morning — assuming your mother and father approve of the idea." She looked beseechingly between her aunt and uncle, eliciting a muted chuckle from the latter.

Before either of them could formulate any sort of response, the boys were adding their own pleas to Elizabeth's request, "Oh, yes! Mama, Papa, please let us go!" Percy pleaded.

"Might we go, Papa?" young Edward Gardiner added in more restrained tones. At nearly eleven, he fancied himself quite the young gentleman despite his father's position as a tradesman, "We could have a go with the new kite you procured for us before the weather gets too bad to be out of doors."

"I do not see why not, my loves, so long as the weather holds. I would not wish you catching cold." Mrs. Gardiner returned with some amusement, knowing full well that Elizabeth's pleas would have been made with far greater force than those of her sons had she not been constrained by the bounds of propriety. The amusements of town compensated but little for the loss of her niece's ability to wander the countryside unencumbered. Shifting her gaze to where Jane sat at the far side of the table, Mrs. Gardiner noticed that the little serenity her eldest niece had recovered seemed to be faltering at the present discussion.

"Does something trouble you, Jane?" she inquired, "If you would prefer not to walk out tomorrow, you are welcome to stay home. While the children may protest your absence, I am certain that your efforts to entertain them today have earned you some respite."

"I do not mind going to the park, aunt, it is only that…" Jane hesitated, glancing at Elizabeth before continuing, "Lizzy, I do wonder if it would be wise to go out so soon after having called on Miss Bingley. Do you not think it would be taken as a slight were we to be out when she returns our call?"

A grunt of disappointment from one of the boys drew a stern glance and clearing of the throat from Mr. Gardiner.

Elizabeth looked to her aunt, uncertain of how to address her sister's concern given her firm belief that such a visit was unlikely to take place. Not wishing to crush her niece's fragile spirit, Madeline Gardiner spoke in her stead, offering up a compromise, "We seem to have forgotten ourselves, dear Jane. Your consideration does you credit. Perhaps the outing to the park might be delayed until after morning visiting hours so that the children — and your sister — might be accommodated without giving any offense should your friends return your call on the morrow."

Elizabeth nodded her agreement, the accompanying smile not reaching her eyes. Her young cousins grinned madly at one another, knowing they could do little to celebrate their victory under their father's watchful eye.

"That would be most agreeable, aunt," Jane replied, "I thank you."

Plans for the morrow set, those assembled resumed eating and allowed the children to carry the conversation as they entertained their loved ones be recounting the adventures they had taken their fair cousin on earlier that afternoon. Worried for her sister's happiness though she was, Elizabeth could not help but be caught up in the cozy domesticity of such an informal dinner gathering. Her aunt and uncle exchanged loving glances and amused expressions as they allowed their children far more rein than they might ordinarily have done had they not felt that a trying day called for an evening of lighthearted frivolity.

 **A/N: *Peeks out from behind sofa sheepishly* Well, hello there! All I can offer up as an excuse is that my sister got married back in Florida in November (requiring a cross country trip to help with wedding preparations and participate in said wedding) and the holidays were insane with all these people running around like they live here and expect me to feed them and plan things. ;)**

 **As always, please click below to Favorite, Follow, and/or Review!**


	24. Chapter 22

**CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO**

The procession from Gracechurch street to the nearby park the following afternoon was, with few exceptions, a joyous one. There was little doubt of the Gardiner children's delight as they talked excitedly of the adventures awaiting them in their own little piece of wilderness. Elizabeth gladly took the lead with the boys, eagerly partaking in their speculations on whether the wind would be strong enough to support their kite flying endeavor and laughing at their outlandish projections as to just how high the kite would fly — seeming to have forgotten that their projections were generally in excess of the amount of string they had at their disposal. Still, she assured them that were the Prince Regent to be able to see their kite bobbing happily on the horizon all the way from Carlton House, he would surely be duly impressed. That she was far less enamored with the prince than her cousins appeared to be, blissfully ignorant as they were, she kept to herself.

The park was not far, but Elizabeth could not help repeatedly glancing back during the course of their travel to where her sister walked at a more sedate pace behind them, holding hands with little Abigail Gardiner. The morning had gone much as Elizabeth had anticipated, but she still could not bear to see Jane so cast down. Miss Bingley had made no appearance among their morning callers, nor did Elizabeth expect she ever would. It was a condescension that was beneath that lady, and one that would cost her too much in terms of her ambitions for her brother and herself. Even so, Jane made every effort to be pleasing company. Her kindness was not tempered by her own disappointments. It was a trait Elizabeth observed with some measure of self-recrimination.

Upon arriving at their destination, the party split up according to the interests of the Bennets' young cousins. Abigail Gardiner was an endearingly prim and proper little five year old whose staid disposition made her more desirous of the company of her eldest cousin over that of her positively wild Cousin Lizzy. Thus Jane and the Gardiners' nursemaid, Hannah, found a bench where they could watch the kite flying attempts from a distance while attending to little Abigail and her dear little dolly, Nelly (who, having been ill for some weeks, was much in need of some fresh air — as much as a little park nestled into the sprawling city streets of London could afford at any rate). Edward and Percy Gardiner, being quite unlike their tirelessly serious sister, infinitely preferred Cousin Lizzy's adventurous spirit. Cousin Jane might have made an enchanting princess in their juvenile revelry, but Cousin Lizzy was their fearless pirate queen. So it was that the boys traipsed off to the farther reaches of the meadow with their kite, Elizabeth, and the Gardiner's footman in tow.

The Gardiner boys were immensely satisfied in their kite flying adventures as Elizabeth assisted them in holding the kite aloft as they took turns running across the meadow, attempting to get their prized possession to take flight. It was not until nearly half an hour into their time at the park that disaster struck. In his enthusiasm for the heights to which the kite had ascended under his expert guidance, Percy Gardiner had ventured rather close to the grove of trees lining the far boundary of the park, against the advice of his elder cousin. It was the work of a mere moment when a particularly strong gust of wind stripped poor Percy of both his pride and the kite. The boys watched in horror as the wind carried the kite high across the remaining grassy expanse and unceremoniously dropped it into the copse of trees beyond. Elizabeth sighed warily, exchanging a look with the bemused footman and beginning the march toward the spot where the kite had disappeared into the trees. The boys followed along behind them, Percy making every attempt to conceal his tears and defend himself against young Edward, who was chastising him soundly for his foolishness.

Upon reaching the spot where the kite could be seen resting despondently in the upper branches of a stout little tree, Elizabeth was able to quiet the boys with assurances that it might be quite a feat to untangle the kite from its perch, but it was not impossible. Simon, the accompanying footman, agreed with her assessment and deftly swung himself onto the lowest branch and began maneuvering around the tree as he ascended toward the awaiting treasure.

His progress soon came to a halt, however, and after he remained still in one spot for several moments, Elizabeth called up to him, "Are you well, Simon?"

"Aye, miss, but I cannot quite reach the kite," he called back, "The branches are too closely knit together for me to squeeze through any farther."

Anticipating her young cousins' protests, Elizabeth gave them a pointed look before returning, "Very well, Simon. Please come down." The trio on the ground watched nervously as a few twigs broke loose during the footman's descent. Coming down backwards was proving a bit more challenging than his ascent, and he missed his footing on the final branch, barely catching it with his hands thereafter to prevent himself from crashing to the earth below.

His near miss drew a sharp intake of breath from Elizabeth, but he smiled at her and chuckled nervously as he brushed himself off, "I am no worse for the wear, miss. Simply not well practiced in climbing trees like the young lads. I grew up entirely in town, having no cousins to visit in the country where I might have gained more opportunities to practice." He gave a wink to Edward and Percy, whose chests puffed up noticeably at this nod to their superior experience in the art.

Edward began to take off his coat as though preparing to make the ascent himself, but Elizabeth placed her hand on his shoulder to stop him, "No, Edward. Experienced though you may be, it is quite too high for you to attempt it. I could not forgive myself if you were to come to harm."

This denial drew renewed tears from poor Percy. Elizabeth shushed him quietly and squeezed Edward's shoulder a little more firmly to keep him from adding to his brother's suffering with further commentary on where the blame lay for their current situation. Having sufficiently quieted her charges, she turned back to peer up once more through the branches and consider their course of action. She knew they ought to give the kite up as lost, however, her agitation over Jane's recent disappointments and her inability to remedy them as she had wished had her feeling particularly puckish. Casting her gaze across that much of the park that she could see from her present position, she saw only her sister with the nursemaid and Abigail and one other couple walking at the far end of the park where they had come in.

Her mind made up, Elizabeth let out a deep sigh and turned to the servant, "Well, Simon. I shall need you to help me up to the lower branch there so I might attempt it." The poor footman's eyes widened in surprise, but feeling it was not his place to question her, he nodded slowly and walked with her to the base of the tree.

"I know I cannot ask you not to mention this little adventure to my aunt and uncle — the boys will likely out me in any case — however, I would be much obliged if you could attempt to keep my young cousins adequately engaged while I am aloft so as not to draw unnecessary attention from any passers by." He nodded in silent agreement and then knelt down, interlocking his fingers and offering them as a foothold for her while he turned his head away from her to preserve her modesty.

With one swift movement, Elizabeth was able to catch the lower branch and get her footing adequately enough to begin her ascent. She heard the footman quieting her cousins' cheers at her success and chuckled mirthlessly to herself. Oh, what her mother would say if she could see her now, climbing a tree in the middle of London without even the benefit of dense foliage to conceal her impropriety. She sighed again to herself, wondering at her own recklessness. It had been mere weeks since Mr. Darcy had admonished her for such an act. While there was no gentleman sharing the branches with her, she new she ought not have considered such a step. London was not the country. What might be laughed away amongst the local gentry would not be born with anywhere near that degree of generosity in town. Determined to complete the task now she was here, however, she picked her way through the branches as quickly as she could with consideration for safety. Her smaller stature allowed her to access the higher limbs where Simon had been stalled, and it was not long ere she reached her prize. Her cousins' voices rose to her in praise of her climbing prowess. Not wishing to draw more attention to herself by calling down to them, she trusted the footman to take them in hand and focused on the daunting task of untangling the string from the branches so that she might get the kite loose.

Several moments work proved the task to be impossible without remaining aloft indefinitely. Clinging fast to one of the larger limbs, she freed one hand to search through the pockets of her skirt where she recalled having left a small pair of scissors from her halfheartedly attempts at embroidery that morning. Finding them therein, she extracted them and quickly cut the string of the kite at the lowest point she had managed to dislodge from the tree. Pocketing the sheers one more, she wound the remaining string around the kite and moved it to a lower branch, alternately descending a limb or two lower and relocating the kite so it remained within reach while still allowing her full use of both hands for the climb down.

Murmurings from below drifted up, catching Elizabeth's ears, but not quite registering. The servant's near fall fresh in her mind, Elizabeth remained intently focused on the task of tentatively testing out each new limb below her and shifting her weight carefully so as not to lose her footing. As she reached the final branch, she turned slightly to find the Gardiner's footman offering his assistance in steadying her as she dropped the remaining distance to the ground, but she was taken aback when she heard an unfamiliar voice coming from behind her.

"If it were not for the fact that England is sadly bereft of laurels, I might have believed myself to have been so fortunate as to happen upon Daphne* herself," the stranger observed with some amusement in his tone.

Elizabeth's eyes widened as she met the footman's apologetic gaze. She gladly accepted the proffered help, giving poor Simon but a fraction of a moment to offer explanation in a muted tone, "My apologies, miss. I did try to dissuade the gentleman from remaining here with us."

Elizabeth smiled reassuringly at the Gardiners' loyal servant and having quickly brushed out her skirts and tucked a stray curl behind her ear, she turned to face the interloper. She was met with the sight of an impressive — at least by her cousins' estimation as they were gaping at him like fish — gentleman cutting a fine figure in a tell-tale red coat, fitted out with the appropriate indications of rank. His aquiline nose and the way in which he held himself gave every indication that he was of the first circles of society. His gaze was no less scrutinizing, though he seemed better pleased with what he saw than she appeared. He looked at her appreciatively, causing her cheeks to take on an even deeper shade of pink than they were already sporting due to the embarrassment of having been discovered.

The unnamed gentleman cleared his throat as though remembering himself, "Despite my initial suppositions, these young men," here he gestured toward Edward and Percy who continued to gaze at him in awe, the very figure of one of their toy soldiers come to life, "have assured me — most adamantly — that though you are not a maiden of mythical origins, your feats of piracy are legendary. You can understand my confusion, of course, as Daphne herself was a plunderer of hearts." Here he offered her an exaggerated bow and a murmured, " _Your Majesty_."

The ridiculousness of her situation drawing Elizabeth back to herself, she arched an eyebrow at him following this little speech and replied as evenly as she could manage, "And do you fancy yourself Apollo, sir, or are you considering a life of piracy?"

The soldier's smile broadened at the hint of challenge reflected in her expressive eyes. She was no shrinking violet, but rather a delightful little minx. As her eyebrow reached still further and the footman cleared his throat loudly, the gentleman realized he had been staring. Recalling himself once more — and not wishing to appear a rake, however tempting the prospect might be — he answered her with a self-depreciating smile, "I fear I must disappoint you, m'lady. I am but a humble soldier in His Majesty's army."

"It is impossible to disappoint where expectations were never very high, sir. In any case, your red coat speaks to the truth of at least part of that declaration. I shall not pretend to give weight to the veracity of remainder of that descriptor given our present predicament." She delivered the set down so beautifully that the gentleman could not help the loud guffaw that escaped him.

"I deserved that, madam," he returned after giving free reign to his laughter for a moment, "I am, perhaps, not widely known for my humility."

"You are a second son." It was more a statement than a question.

"Indeed," a pause, "You would not happen to be an heiress, would you?"

Against her better judgment, Elizabeth could not help but laugh at this stranger's blunt inquiry, "And now it is your turn to be disappointed, sir. Piracy has not been as lucrative as one might hope."

"What a pity," he replied, glad to have been granted the privilege of hearing the lady laugh despite her obvious determination not to do so in their present situation, "I beg your pardon, miss—?"

"Oh, no!" Elizabeth shook her head vigorously and clamped her hands down over the mouths of each of her young cousins as they seemed ready to supply the requested information, "No introductions."

"Why ever not?" he asked, his disappointment obvious.

"I think you can well imagine why not, sir. Besides, I have only just recently been chastised for such feats as you have witnessed today, and I will not have my improprieties bandied about in company with my name to ruin any chance I might have of passing myself off creditably."

The soldier threw his hand over his heart, his mouth agape, "You wound me, madam!"

"I sincerely doubt it," she smirked. His chuckle belied his amusement, prompting Elizabeth to add, "The local militia recently made camp in the village adjacent to my father's estate. The new addition to our neighborhood has brought to light the fact that the village matrons have nothing on a regiment of soldiers where a propensity to gossip is concerned."

The gentleman chuckled at this observation but persisted in attempting to draw out an introduction, "Colonel—"

"Please, sir." Elizabeth shook her head once more and held up her hand, palm outward, imploring him to halt in his introduction.

"Very well, but what shall I call you should we happen to meet again?"

Elizabeth rolled her eyes and began coaxing her young cousins back toward the other side of the park where she could see Jane standing as she looked their way, watching them with evident concern, "There is very little chance of that happening, sir," she called back over her shoulder.

The Gardiners' footman placed himself between the gentleman — a colonel apparently — and the young lady, giving him a stern look as the young lady and her charges moved off. Understanding the unspoken message not to attempt to follow — and knowing he had already allowed his curiosity to push him far beyond the bounds of what was proper — he nodded in acknowledgment to the servant who then made to follow the rest of his party. The _humble_ soldier absently took out his snuff box, taking a pinch as he watched the enchanting young woman taking the arm of her fair-haired companion at the opposite side of the park, the entire party then moving toward its exit. Replacing his snuff box, he shook his head and chuckled to himself as he exited the park to meet — somewhat belated — the carriage his cousin had graciously lent him for his errand that afternoon.

*In Greek mythology, Daphne was a naiad who captured the romantic interest of the god Apollo. Desperate to escape his persistent pursuit, Daphne begged her father, the river god Ladon for assistance. His solution was to transform her into a laurel tree (and thus the laurel wreath victors were crowned with in the Pythian Games held in honor of Apollo).

 **A/N: Well, hello there! Believe me, I'm as shocked as you are. Pleasantly though, I hope. :) I was so anxious to get this out (I have had the premise for this chapter sketched out in my outline for well over a year) that I did very little in the way of proof reading. My apologies if this offends your delicate sensibilities. ;) I hear you dear readers: I want more interaction between ODC, too. Just one more chapter and then we'll have our hearts' desire.**

 **Reviews feed my muse, so kindly click below to REVIEW, FOLLOW, or FAVORITE. :)**


	25. Chapter 23

**CHAPTER TWENTY THREE**

Jane Bennet had been far more concerned about the attention of the stranger in the park than had her sister. She blamed herself for not attending to what was happening across the park so that she might have come to Elizabeth's aid sooner. Despite Elizabeth's attempts to make light of the incident, Jane was not convinced they should venture out to the park again in the future. It was some time before Elizabeth could assuage her guilt and convince her that although the gentleman had been persistent in his attentions, he was perfectly harmless (entertaining even, though she kept this observation to herself so as not to scandalise her dear sister).

Aunt Gardiner, though surprised at the revelation — which, not surprisingly, came in the form of a questionably embellished narrative from her two eldest sons — was not nearly as distressed as Jane had been. Once the boys had finished telling their version of events and were subsequently sent off to the nursery to clean up for dinner, she pulled Elizabeth aside to speak with her privately.

"Well, Lizzy," Mrs. Gardiner replied after allowing Elizabeth to tell her version of events, "Pirate Queen you may be—" she could not help but chuckle at the vivid picture Edward and Percy had painted of their cousin's adventure, "However, I must say that I much prefer the expense of replacing a kite over the prospect of injury to your person or reputation. Promise me you will keep your feet firmly planted on the ground for the duration of your stay with us?"

"Yes, Aunt," Elizabeth replied.

"I believe I must have a word with Simon as well," Mrs. Gardiner sighed.

"Oh no, Aunt! Simon did all that was proper. Please do not lay any blame at his feet for my improprieties."

"I have little doubt that he could not have kept you from climbing the tree if he had tried, determined as you were," she gave Elizabeth a pointed look, "With regard to the gentleman who accosted you, however—"

"I would hardly say he accosted me, Aunt. He was persistent, not aggressive. You know me well enough to imagine that my replies were more likely to encourage than rebuff his attentions."

"Hmm. With regard to the gentleman who _importuned_ you then — is that word choice better suited to your delicate sensibilities where semantics are concerned?" Mrs. Gardiner's cheeky response garnered a half smile from her favorite niece, softening the blow of what was to come, "I am no Fanny Bennet, Elizabeth, but you truly must pay more mind to propriety whilst here with us."

"Yes, Aunt." Elizabeth bowed her head in contrition.

"And Lizzy—"

Elizabeth merely lifted her head to meet her aunt's gaze.

"Thank you for your services to your cousins. I believe you have earned a pair of loyal admirers for life. I know not how any young woman shall live up to their expectations now." Elizabeth's aunt winked at her and cupped her chin gently before dropping a light kiss on her forehead, "Now go clean up for dinner, child. There is a letter from Longbourn on your bedside table. You should have time to read it before coming down."

Elizabeth nodded in acknowledgment and offered her aunt a warm smile before rising to leave the room.

Upstairs, Elizabeth made quick use of the pitcher of fresh water the maid had already brought in and washed away all remaining outward evidence of the day's adventure. A fresh gown and a few additional hair pins later, she sat heavily on the mattress and retrieved the letter her aunt had left at her bedside for her. Unsealing the missive, she found it was from her sister Mary, who she had written not long after their arrival in London.

 _Longbourn, Hertfordshire_

 _XX January_

 _Lizzy,_

 _I was glad, if a little surprised, to hear from you so soon after your arrival at Gracechurch Street. I am glad the journey was comfortable and that you and Jane, along with our aunt, uncle, and cousins have arrived safely._

 _How does Jane fare? I do hope that being away from Mama's constant reminders about her disappointment have given her some respite — or perhaps seeing the gentleman himself may lift her spirits? I do hope you are successful on that score. I am no romantic, but Jane did seem to be very fond of Mr. Bingley._

 _Things as Longbourn continue much as they were when you left. Lydia remains as much a prodigious flirt as ever — perhaps worse now that Mr. Wickham appears to have been disappointed in his hopes with regard to Miss King. It seems her Uncle did not look favorably on the match and therefore took Miss King and her mother off to stay with him at his estate in Liverpool. All the better for Miss King, I say. It does seem to have given Lydia a renewed enthusiasm for attracting Mr. Wickham's attentions, however. Have you noticed how aggrieved Mr. Denny appears in such cases? Perhaps it is only my imagination — you know I am new to such observations of the behavior of others._

 _You will be interested to know that Papa did make an attempt, half-hearted though it was, to curb the frequency of the visits from the officers. He complained to Mama that he was growing tired of his parlour being always filled to the brim with gentleman callers and that he could get no peace with how the lot of them carry on. As you can well imagine, Mama dismissed him out of hand. She declared it all utter nonsense and that such an array of gentleman callers could not but be good for her girls. I notice she does not draw any of their attention toward me, but you will not hear me complain on that score._

 _Mr. John Lucas did come to call with Charlotte and Maria not long after you departed. Though Kitty has confided nothing in me, I believe he must have offered her some sort of apology for his behavior at the picnic. I noticed that he spoke quite earnestly with her for several moments during their call at Longbourn. They did seem on friendlier terms at one of Aunt Philip's card parties which they both attended later that same week. While things do seem easier between them, I have seen none of the former favor Kitty seemed to show him return. I believe that her youthful infatuation with the gentleman is truly at an end. Perhaps it is well for Kitty to have had such an awakening early on. If only we should be so lucky as to have Lydia learn the same lesson with such relative ease. Only time will tell, I suppose._

 _I must end this here as Kitty wishes to attend me on some calls to the tenants this morning. I will give them all your regards, as requested. Papa sends his in return and Mama, of course, simply wishes you to concentrate your efforts on securing a husband — though I beg of you to write of any updates in that quarter to her direct. I cannot bare to put the paper her effusions on the topic._

 _Mary Bennet_

Elizabeth could not but agree with many of the observations Mary had made — and indeed, laugh at the wry humour betrayed by such a letter! To think that Mary's wit ran more in line with her own than even Jane's. She swallowed down her regrets for past neglect, and chose instead to feel the warmth of sisterly affection that was blooming between herself and the middle Bennet sister. Jane would likely always be her dearest sister — she was her perfect foil. Elizabeth felt, however, that perhaps Mary might come to understand her in a way that Jane never could. With a sigh, she folded up the letter, returning it to the little table beside her bed, and found her way downstairs to join the remainder of the family for dinner.

~P&P~

Fitzwilliam and Georgiana Darcy had nearly finished their soup by the time the butler announced their cousin's arrival.

"Richard, how kind of you to join us," Mr. Darcy said sardonically, raising an eyebrow in question at his cousin's late arrival for their dinner engagement.

"Well that is not the first raised brow I have had leveled at me today," Colonel Fitzwilliam chuckled, "And do not take such a tone with me, cousin. If you did not insist on keeping country hours whilst in town, I would yet be several hours early rather than half an hour late."

"I hardly expect that would make any difference. How do your commanding officers deal with you?"

"They adore me, I assure you. I am forever punctual in attending to His Majesty's business." He grinned at his cousin and took the seat at the opposite side of Georgiana from where Mr. Darcy was seated. Signaling for the footman to fill his glass, he turned to Georgiana, "And how are you this evening, fair one?"

"Happy as always to have you with us — however punctual you may or may not be," Georgiana replied with a smiling glance at her brother who refused to meet his cousin's resulting gloating expression.

As the soup was taken away and the next course served, Mr. Darcy cleared his throat, "How went your errand, Richard? I assume it took longer than expected, thus explaining your tardiness. I hope you found your friend much recovered from his injuries?"

Instead of answering his cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam turned to Georgiana and furrowing his brow in a look of utmost seriousness, asked, "Georgiana, I beg you to be honest with me," her brow crinkled to match his own at such a beginning, "Would you still love me if I were to embark on a life of piracy?"

Such an unexpected inquiry elicited a sudden cough from Miss Darcy, causing her to quickly cover her mouth with her napkin as she regained her composure, "Piracy?" she eventually squeaked out, and then narrowing her eyes slightly, added, "Surely you are in jest".

Mr. Darcy was hardly able to keep from rolling his eyes as he sat silently awaiting whatever outlandish tale his cousin had in store for them.

"I fear not, dear one," the colonel sighed, "You see, I was taken upon by a band of pirates this very afternoon—"

"Pirates." Darcy scoffed.

"Yes, pirates," Colonel Fitzwilliam replied, nonplussed, and then turned back to Georgiana as though to continue.

Before he could do so, Darcy inquired, "In London?"

"Yes, Darce. Pirates in London. Now may I continue my tale?"

"Hmmph. Even you must admit this is a poor beginning if your tale is to be believed."

"Be that as it may, I should like to go on," the colonel paused, waiting to see if his cousin would have any further objections. As Mr. Darcy merely shook his head — the corners of his lips tilted suspiciously upwards — he continued, "Very well, where was I? Ah yes, pirates in London. I was, as you can imagine — having heard tales of the usual ruthlessness of such men — quite fortunate to be taken alive. After some time as their prisoner, I was taken before their queen."

"Oh my!" Georgiana grinned impishly at him, "I had no idea that pirates had queens. Were you very afraid?"

"I feared for my life up until the very moment I laid eyes on her," he paused dramatically in his telling.

"And then?" Georgiana urged him on, leaning forward slightly in anticipation.

"Then I found that it was not my life, but rather my heart I should be wary of losing."

Here Mr. Darcy snorted, barely able to conceal his laughter, "Are we to hear a romance now, Richard?"

Ignoring the interruption, Colonel Fitzwilliam continued, "When I first saw her, she was high aloft, fearlessly descending the ship's mast," the colonel leaned toward Georgiana and added in a stage whisper, "A tree, actually."

Georgiana nodded her understanding, her eyes alight in amusement. Mr. Darcy, however, grew wary of what was to come. "This hardly seems the sort of behavior to be romanticizing, Richard."

"Phssh," Richard returned, "Allow me to finish, will you?"

"Do you intend to be finished before tea is served?"

"If you stop interrupting," Colonel Fitzwilliam gave an exaggerated huff, feigning annoyance.

"Oh do let him finish, Fitzwilliam. I am dying to learn how our cousin escaped such peril to join us this evening," Georgiana interjected.

Mr. Darcy offering no further opposition, the colonel went on, "As it happens, this particular pirate queen, although not rich in the way of the world, had a heart of gold…"

Finally putting all pretenses aside, Colonel Fitzwilliam then elaborated on the mystery lady's daring rescue of the precious kite the young lads in her charge had lost to a rogue wind. He shared an abbreviated recounting of their verbal sparring, including her adamant refusal to accept any introduction.

His narrative at last drawing to a close, he observed, "She was so unexpected."

"I believe the word you are searching for is 'indecorous'," Mr. Darcy interjected.

His cousin looks off to the other side of the room for a moment, rubbing his chin thoughtfully as though considering the truth of Mr. Darcy's assessment, but then he shook his head and smiled broadly, "No. I am certain I meant unexpected. London society is so stuffy with its stringent adherence to arbitrary rules of propriety. It is suffocating, not to mention the height of hypocrisy," the colonel gave Georgiana a sidelong glance, not elaborating further on his last, but he was assured by Mr. Darcy's grim expression that his cousin caught his drift. "No, this afternoon's encounter was surprising in the most pleasant of ways. You cannot imagine the wit of this lady. I daresay she could even hold her own in a debate with you, Darce. If she had been an heiress, I might have made her an offer on the spot."

Mr. Darcy gaped at his cousin for a moment before recovering himself, "You did not inquire if she were an heiress."

"I did," the colonel chuckled as his cousin dropped his head into his hands.

"Perhaps Georgiana should retire for the evening if you are going to carry on in this manner, Richard." Mr. Darcy muttered.

Georgiana placed her hand gently atop her brother's where it rested on the table, "I can assure you I will not go traipsing off to climb trees — for reasons of valor or otherwise, Fitzwilliam. Nor will I model my own behavior after my impertinent cousin," she smiled reassuringly at her brother. He returned her smile, but his brow furrowed as her expression suddenly grew serious, "I cannot, however, make any promises with regards to piracy," she said grimly. At this the colonel let out a loud guffaw, startling more than one of the attending servants. Georgiana's grim countenance faded as she dissolved into giggles joining with her cousin's more vociferous display. Mr. Darcy could not but join in their mirth. Indeed, hearing his sister's laughter fill their home again after so many months of tormenting himself over failing to protect her was a balm to his aching heart.

 **A/N: Hello again! I told you reviews feed my muse. ;) Seriously though - WOW! 32 Reviews thus far on that last chapter. That is the most reviews I have had on any one chapter since the first. Thank you so much for taking the time to share your thoughts with me. I love that you all love these characters as much as I do, and being able to interact with my readers is one of my favorite parts about writing in this format. As you may have figured out, we are now getting into the meat of this story. All the meticulous work of laying the groundwork will pay off as the next part of the story plays out. I refuse to make any promises on posting schedule as doing so has only served to backfire on me in the past. Family always comes first, so real life often calls me away from my creative endeavors. I will only say that it is one of my goals to finish this book this year so that I can move into the editing phase next year in hopes of publishing. That said, I do have pages of notes regarding the next chapter that have been waiting for MONTHS to be woven together so that ODC can meet again. How will Darcy and the colonel figure out that Elizabeth and the pirate queen are one and the same? What will their reactions be to this discovery? Stay tuned to find out. ;)**

 **As always, click below to REVIEW, FAVORITE, or FOLLOW. :)**


	26. Chapter 24

**CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR**

Mr. Collins blew out a long breath and tossed the correspondence he had been reading onto his desk. He would have to return to the missive at a later time when he could give the estate matters Mr. Bennet wrote of proper attention. Closing his eyes for a moment, he rubbed circles at his temples, trying in vain to alleviate the tension gathering there. He had returned to Kent after Christmas and thrown himself into the business of the parish. After two absences in such a short span of time, there was much to be done at home. Preparing sermons, though arguably a priority in his profession, were the least of his concerns upon his return. Lady Catherine gave her steward little latitude with which to offer assistance to her tenants, which left a number of his parishioners at the mercy of the church to attend to their needs. This was, however, nothing, to the efforts required in managing that lady herself.

The research and inquiries Mr. Bennet wished him to make on his behalf only added to responsibilities presently vying for his attention. While he relished in the opportunity to gain experience before having the accompanying responsibilities of estate ownership thrust upon him, Mr. Collins felt that Mr. Bennet was deferring a great deal more to him than any other gentleman with an entailed estate might have done — particularly given the rather short duration of any sort of true relationship between them. Still, if his efforts improved the estate's value and prospects for future growth, then the long term benefits would be well worth the effort now. Busy as found himself, it was not as though he had a wife or children to occupy his free time at present — though he very much hoped to that vacancy would be filled in short order.

This was, of course, the other things troubling him. Despite his polite inquiries after the rest of the Bennet family, he was certain Mr. Bennet was being deliberately obtuse in his responses. When he did not ignore such inquiries altogether, he would go on at length about every tedious detail of his youngest daughter's doings. Concerned as Mr. Collins was for the welfare of the _entire_ Bennet family, he felt himself becoming increasingly frustrated at being the object of Mr. Bennet's amusement — particularly when the gentleman had made it clear he was aware of the direction in which Mr. Collins' affections tended. Rules of propriety being what they were, however, there was little he could do until he had an opportunity to visit Longbourn again.

Pushing these thoughts away, Mr. Collins leaned forward and sifted through the remaining correspondence requiring his attention. Finding that one of the letters had been posted in London, he turned it over, stopping short at the sight of the Ramsbury family crest pressed into the wax seal. His Ramsbury cousins rarely condescended to write their _lowly_ relation, and his uncle was a notoriously neglectful correspondent even with those of whom he was fond. It was therefore with some trepidation that he broke the seal, unfolded the pages of fine stationary, and began to scan their contents. The letter was from his eldest cousin, Frederick. He wrote to inform Mr. Collins that while his father's physician did not feel the baronet's death was imminent, his present decline was such that it could not be long off. He urged Mr. Collins to move up the timing of his impending visit and he was uncertain whether his father would be able to receive him — or indeed recognize him if he did — if Mr. Collins were to wait until after Easter to visit as originally planned. The letter contained little else. Mr. Collins was grateful for this uncharacteristic show of kindness on his cousin's part — though he wondered if his uncle was still cognizant enough to recognize his own decline and requested his son write on his behalf. It would not come as a surprise if it were the case. Still, he had written.

Mr. Collins set this latest letter aside with the others and considered how soon he might be able to adequately arrange things such that he could leave the parish for any length of time. There was still much to catch up on in the wake of his previous two visits to Hertfordshire, so it was likely he could not be off to London for at least another fortnight. Lady Catherine would be most seriously displeased in any case, however, it could not be helped. The idea of seeing his uncle in such a diminished state as his cousin's letter implied filled Mr. Collins with dread, but he could not but desire to see the man who had done so much for him — had, he believed, loved him as best as he knew how — one last time. His sole consolation in the abrupt change in plans was that his earlier trip to town made it more likely that he would also be able to see Elizabeth while she still resided in London with her Uncle Gardiner. This bright hope would prove to be a source of strength as he undertook the grueling task of placating Lady Catherine and preparing his parish for yet another absence of its clergyman in the weeks to come.

~P&P~

The weather in town remained tolerable given the season, thus allowing Jane and Elizabeth to escort their young cousins to the adjacent park on more than one occasion in the days that followed. Mrs. Gardiner made a point of joining them on the first couple trips following the fateful encounter with the colonel, but there having been no subsequent sightings of that gentleman, she felt satisfied that they would fare well enough without her chaperonage on future outings.

Though she would never admit as much, Elizabeth felt an odd mixture of relief and disappointment at not having another opportunity to spar with the charming colonel. She realized, of course, that should she encounter him again, she could not in good faith engage in conversation so openly as she had on their first meeting. Still, it took a great deal of effort to conceal the pleasure she felt at seeing him again when the party from Gracechurch Street chanced upon him on entering the park the following week.

Elizabeth stopped abruptly upon seeing the colonel, once again in full regimentals, seated on a bench not far from the entrance through which they had come. Noticing her immediately, the gentleman made to rise from where he was seated and greet her party.

Recalling her promise to her aunt, Elizabeth took Edward and Percy's hands and turned them back toward the entrance, telling them in a voice loud enough for the colonel himself to hear, "The park is a little crowded for my taste this morning, let us return home and come back another time."

The Gardiner boys looked back toward the sparsely populated park in puzzlement, and upon catching sight of the colonel the two of them simultaneously tugged at Elizabeth's hands to stall her retreat. Elizabeth cursed herself for having gotten so far ahead of Jane, Abigail, and the Gardiner's footman. She could not countenance being the cause of poor Simon receiving any further admonishment.

The delay allowed the colonel to reach the place where they stood, "Greetings _Your Majesty_ ," he said, bowing gracefully before righting himself and giving the Gardiner boys a conspiratorial wink, "Will you not grant your humble servant a brief audience before you depart?"

Elizabeth hesitated, unsure how she ought to proceed. She did not wish to cut the gentleman entirely — though she was not sure it was possible to truly cut someone to whom you had not been properly introduced. In any case, if he was truly a gentleman, he would not press her to speak to him when she was clearly uncomfortable doing so. Her warring feelings regarding the encounter had her feeling put out both with herself and with the gentleman. These emotions played clearly across her countenance as she stood unmoving.

The colonel's lips dipped downward a little as he watched her reaction, but he quickly regained his composure, "Where is your kite on this breezy morning, young sirs?" he addressed the Gardiner boys to give her time to recover.

Not wishing the boys to be drawn in when she knew they must retreat, Elizabeth cut off their response, "We felt it wise to leave it at home this morning as we have recently discovered its propensity to catch not only a timely breeze, but also nearby branches and all manner of other danglers that might be about."

"That sounds positively dreadful," he replied with a smirk.

"There is nothing positive about it, I assure you," Elizabeth countered, drawing herself up into a rigid stance, determined not to be drawn in, "Now, if you will excuse us, sir. Neither I nor any of my party have any intention of speaking so freely with an individual to whom we have not been introduced."

"If you recall, madam, I _did_ attempt to introduce myself to you on our last meeting." He argued playfully.

" _Properly_ introduced, sir."

Elizabeth began once again ushering her cousins toward the exit, where she and the gentleman could both see the Gardiner's footman entreating Jane to stay with young Abigail before he himself turned to stride purposefully toward them. Realizing his time was short, the gentleman hurriedly asked, "Perhaps you might tell me the names of some acquaintances of yours in case we have any in common — or which public assembly you will next attend so that I might seek out a _proper_ introduction?" he emphasized the word just as she had.

Elizabeth merely looked back over her shoulder at him, her lips pursed but her eyes having lost some of their fierceness. The colonel sighed and held up his hands as though to concede the point and give the footman some idea of his not intending to follow them. "Very well, madam, but you need not depart on my account. I will vacate the park and leave it to you and your charges. I would not wish to deprive you of the pleasure of being out of doors while the weather still affords the opportunity."

Elizabeth stopped and turned to exchange a look with Simon, and the colonel tipped his hat, bidding the party farewell before exiting the park under the watchful eye of the Gardiner's footman. Elizabeth cast one final glance his way as he disappeared through the gates and down the busy London street, wondering if it was the last she would see of him.

 **A/N: Hello, friends! I am LOVING reading your reviews, so please keep it up! I decided to split my original content for this chapter into two (this one being the shorter of the two), so it is the NEXT chapter for which I have a plethora of notes to organize and formulate into the London encounter we have all (yes, me too!) been eagerly awaiting. Until then, please click below to REVIEW, FOLLOW, or FAVORITE this story. :)**


	27. Chapter 25

**CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE**

Elizabeth's eyes fluttered closed as she breathed in deeply, relishing the mingling scents of leather, parchment, and ink that together bespoke a world of possibilities. Opening her eyes, she continued her slow progress along the row of shelves, her gloved fingers skimming lightly over the spines of countless books as her eyes devoured the titles of the volumes that could bring whole worlds within the grasp of her imagination, even if she herself would never step foot on their shores or experience first hand the joys and pains of those persons or characters contained within. The prospect of an afternoon spent enduring the tedious task of examining fashion plates, selecting fabrics, and being fitted for one dress after another at the modiste could hardly compare to that of exploring the vast expanse of human experience and the broad range of human emotion that lay represented on the shelves before her.

As it was, Elizabeth had had to endure a short time at her aunt's modiste during this excursion to Bond Street. Her uncle's business relationship with the proprietor giving her aunt preference at the shop of which not many of her station could boast. Not surprisingly, Fanny Bennet had insisted upon her two eldest daughters taking full advantage of such connections whilst in town to acquire new gowns more suited to the circles to which she aspired. For her part, Elizabeth had chosen a simple, but elegant gown with little in the way of the lace and beading that her mother would have preferred. Neither the circles in which her aunt and uncle moved in London nor Hertfordshire society would give her much opportunity to wear anything more lavish without appearing unduly extravagant. Jane Bennet, dutiful daughter that she was, determined to be more accommodating of their mother's desires, and was thus still firmly ensconced in the modiste's shop being outfitted accordingly. Elizabeth had taken the opportunity to escape at the earliest opportunity, and with her devoted guardian Simon in tow, quickly navigated the crowded sidewalks of Bond Street to find her way into the book-lover's paradise that was Hatchards.

After allowing herself the leisure of browsing the shelves for some time with her own pleasure in mind, Elizabeth stopped to reach into her reticule, pulling out a short missive and briefly perusing its contents. Mr. Bennet was not generally a faithful correspondent, but not unlike his wife, he was well aware of the great advantage to be had in frequenting London shops. He had therefore written to his daughter to request that she seek out a particular translation of some classic work or another that he had not been able to acquire from amongst the limited selection available from the local bookseller in Meryton. Finding the title he sought amidst the masculine scrawl therein, Elizabeth turned to move toward an adjacent aisle while refolding the letter and tucking it safely back into her reticule.

Rounding the corner to the next aisle, Elizabeth looked up just in time to collide rather forcefully with the solid warmth of a gentleman's chest, unbalancing herself and knocking the book he had been carrying as well as her own to the floor with a resounding thud. She felt herself tumbling backwards, but before she could reach out to clutch at a nearby shelf to steady herself (she dare not grasp at the gentleman himself), Elizabeth felt the gentleman's firm grasp under her elbows, lifting her back to her feet before she could more thoroughly embarrass herself by landing soundly on her backside.

The immediate danger of such humiliation having passed, Elizabeth glanced down to ensure her apparel remained in good order and let slip a soft self-depreciating laugh as she lifted her head so that she might thank her curiously silent rescuer. Her words of gratitude were to remain unspoken, however, as upon lifting her gaze to the rather tall gentleman before her, the words died on her lips. Before her stood the usually staid master of Pemberley, his usual mask of hauteur cast aside in favor of a gaze of utmost wonder — or shock, certainly it was merely the shock of their unusual encounter and his concern at having possibly injured her that softened the appearance of his stormy blue eyes to such a startling degree.

~P&P~

It was not until Elizabeth called his name a second time — a hint of question or concern in her tone — that Darcy registered her speaking. He wondered with some embarrassment how long he had been staring at her dumbly.

"Miss Bennet," he choked out abruptly, suddenly feeling uncomfortably warm. He resisted the urge to tug at his cravat — a brutal instrument of fashion he generally loathed, but for which he had a new appreciation given its present usefulness in concealing the flush he could feel creeping up his neck. Swallowing down the lump that had inconveniently settled in his throat, he began again, "I beg your pardon, Miss Bennet. I did not see you as I came round the corner. I hope you are not injured?"

"I am not injured, Mr. Darcy," she replied, her eyes alight with mischief, "As such, I believe it is safe for you to release me now."

Deeply mortified at having thus clung to the lady, Darcy muttered yet another apology and released her just as a man peeked around the corner, and apparently having found whom he sought, addressed Elizabeth.

"Beggin' your pardon, Miss. I just stepped into the back room to speak with one of the delivery men who I 'ave known since we was lads, and thought I heard a bit of a scuffle. I wished to ensure you are well," the servant ended his explanation with an appraising look at Darcy who might have been offended at being the object of such evident suspicion were it not for the fact that the servant very likely had seen him releasing his hold on Miss Bennet as he approached them.

"Thank you for your concern, Simon," Elizabeth addressed the young man with a reassuring smile, "but Mr. Darcy and I are acquainted. All is well." The footman nodded his understanding, though Darcy noted a bit of warning in the parting glance he received from the servant, who moved away only far enough to give he and Miss Bennet some measure of privacy for conversation without allowing the lady out of his sight.

The interruption having given Darcy a moment to recover himself, he stooped to retrieve their respective volumes from the floor, returning the lady's selection to her outreached hands.

Elizabeth had evidently taken note of the title of his selection as she broke the silence by inquiring, "Are you a connoisseur of Scottish folk music, Mr. Darcy?" she gestured toward the older volume of _Scots Musical Museum_ he had retrieved along with her own book.

"Not as such, Miss Bennet — though I do enjoy a good Scottish reel," Darcy made reference to his failed attempt to gain Elizabeth's hand for a dance in the drawing room during her stay at Netherfield, "This particular volume has some rather poignant verses of Robert Burns' that I have been looking to acquire for my personal library. The proprietor has been kind enough to track down a copy for me."

"Burns? I had not taken you for a Romantic, Mr. Darcy," she teased and, he noted, cradled her own volume rather more tightly to her chest as though to conceal the identity of her own selection. Her effort to conceal her own affinity for verse was in vain, however, as he had already surreptitiously taken note of the title of upon retrieving it from where it had been unceremoniously dumped on the floor moments before.

Darcy's lips curled into a smirk as he returned, "I might once have considered myself such, Miss Bennet, however I have been recently set to rights on that score. It has been brought to my attention that poetry has as much power to snuff out romantic notions as it does to fan the flame." He took great pleasure in seeing the almost imperceptible widening of her eyes as she recognized her own thoughts on the subject from their conversation several months prior.

"You recall our discussion of the subject." She observed, her eyes narrowed as though scrutinizing him. He was curious how he would hold up under such scrutiny if she were to know that he could recall in vivid detail _every_ conversation he had ever had with her.

"I do."

"And is your selection intended to do the latter or the former?" she inquired, the teasing tone returning. Darcy's chest tightened as he realized he hardly knew the answer to such a forward question. Burns' words of fond farewell alighted upon him. But it was not a parting the poet relished, and certainly not one that would be maintained in light of the opportunity of a happy reunion. _But to see her was to love her. Love but her, and love forever. Waging sighs and groans*_ , indeed.

Wishing to divert her attention from himself, he answered her with a nod toward the book she clutched firmly to her person, "I might ask you the same question, Miss Bennet. Do you often read the likes of William Blake?"

"Touche, Mr. Darcy," a genuine smile gracing Elizabeth's features as she acknowledged his hit rendered her impossibly more beautiful to Darcy. What he would give to feint and parry with this woman for all the days of his life. Fortunately, his dangerous line of thinking was interrupted as she continued, "However, if I recall our previous discussion of the subject accurately, I believe my mother was speaking — quite out of turn, I fear — of some verses one of Jane's former suitors wrote for her."

"You are, of course, correct," he agreed.

"Context is very important. Would you not agree, Mr. Darcy?"

"While some truths transcend a given context, I would agree that generally speaking, context is crucial to understanding."

"Very good. Then just as your dear friend, Mr. Bingley, suggested on another occasion, let us outline all the particulars. I feel I should tell you that despite what my mother may have implied, not only was Jane full young to be considering matrimony, but the particular lines of verses in question were very poorly written," Elizabeth here wrinkled her nose in such an adorable display of disgust at the recollection that Darcy was forced to cough slightly to stifle his laughter.

"What a pity," he offered upon adequately containing his amusement.

"Indeed."

"And?"

" _And_ , Mr. Darcy, as I intimated previously, if it had been a fine, stout love, you might have been proven correct. Jane might have overlooked the — lack of talent, shall we say? — and the sentiments alone would have fanned the flames of adoration. As it was only a slight inclination, the poorly constructed lines instead gave rise to doubt and thus put an end to such inclinations."

"Beauty in things exists merely in the mind which contemplates them." Darcy quoted.**

"Mr. Hume does seem to be onto something," Elizabeth grinned, her eyes bright.

"You know his work?"

"I do. Are you duly scandalised, Mr. Darcy?" she replied, that delicate eyebrow arching ever so slightly.

"Quite the reverse, I assure you."

"How interesting," was her only reply as she tilted her head sideways as though studying him.

Not sure how to respond to such a remark, Darcy chose instead to inquire further on their former topic of conversation, "I do wonder, though, how you might account for the relative popularity of the Romantics. Given your example, might not even well-written verses be overwhelming to a mind unprepared to receive them?"

"Your logic is sound," Elizabeth nodded, "However, you must allow that when we read the Blakes, the Burns, the Lord Byrons of our world we are fully aware that such verses were not expressly meant for us. As such, we are freed to enjoy the feelings they evoke in us without fear of becoming entrapped by them."

"You feel marriage to be a means of entrapping a person?"

"I am surprised you have to ask such a question, your position in society being what it is," Elizabeth smirked.

He allowed this to be true — perhaps too true for his general comfort — but shrugged and urged her to elaborate, "Be that what it may, I should like to hear your opinion on the subject."

"Without love, it most certainly is."

"You do not feel that one might come to love their partner in time — that familiarity and mutual respect might eventually lead to affection?" he asked, his question prompting a look of confusion from his companion. He could not know that his reference to mutual respect what wholly unexpected to the lady given her previous notions of his character.

Slowly, with some thought obviously given to her answer, Elizabeth replied, "Though not an ideal beginning to my mind, with mutual respect, I believe there may be some cause to hope," here she paused and looked down as though recalling something before she lifted her gaze to meet his eyes once more, "However, I would argue that familiarity alone as often breeds contempt as it does affection."

"Fair enough," he acknowledged the truth of her assessment before they fell into a protracted silence that grew more awkward by the second. Darcy knew he should bid her adieu. Several other patrons of the shop had already passed them during their discussion, casting curious glances in their direction. His mind swam with a myriad of thoughts, none of them that shed any light on what he should say to break this awful spell of silence.

Just as Elizabeth appeared ready to speak, a masculine voice called out, "Hey Darce, are you ready to be off? I fancy a bout at Antony's might be just the thing—"

~P&P~

Elizabeth had meant to wish Mr. Darcy a good day and take her leave of him, but at that moment a familiar gentlemen in full regimental dress rounded the corner of a neighboring aisle, approaching from behind Mr. Darcy. As he spoke, his gaze shifted from the back of Mr. Darcy's head to herself, at which point recognition dawned on him and his reasoning for desiring a fencing match evidently escaped him. Clearly his being struck dumb was enough of a novelty to cause Darcy some concern, as that gentlemen turned to look back at the colonel before returning his gaze to herself, a look of puzzlement etched in his features. Elizabeth was certain that the same look of shocked recognition she saw clearly on the colonel's face must be mirrored on her own.

The colonel recovered first, and sweeping down into a reverent bow, he uttered a muted "Your Majesty" before returning to his full height and smiling most becomingly at her. This action led to an expression on Mr. Darcy's face that Elizabeth would later recount wishing could have been captured for posterity. Elizabeth felt the Gardiner's footman move in close behind her, assuming a protective stance and — as a quick look over her shoulder confirmed — wearing a severe frown. His attentiveness to his duty to look after her reminded her of her aunt's warning, but the colonel having used Mr. Darcy's name got the better of her curiosity.

"Are you acquainted with Mr. Darcy, sir?" she inquired.

"Only since birth, madam. Well, his birth, I suppose. I am the older and wiser of the two of us. I take it you are acquainted with my cousin?" the colonel was positively giddy — despite being on the receiving end of some particularly grave looks from Elizabeth's protector.

"I am," she replied uncertainly, glancing back and forth between the two gentleman.

"How very fortunate!" he exclaimed, rolling up onto his toes as he seemed barely able to contain his glee at their chance meeting. Turning to Mr. Darcy, he nudged him with his elbow, "Well, Darce. I see you have been holding out on me. You were acquainted with the fabled pirate queen all along!"

Understanding seemed to suddenly dawn on Mr. Darcy, who after staring at his cousin for a moment turned back to look at Elizabeth, some unknown question in his eyes. She felt herself flush and closed her eyes as she took in a deep breath. _The colonel had told the one person who had already made his disdain for her hoydenish behavior perfectly clear about her most recent lapse in propriety. Little good refusing an introduction had done now her identity was known. Certainly Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst would be all too happy to share her adventures once they knew of them, disgracing her — and by association, her siser — in drawing rooms across London. Poor Jane, what had she done to deserve such a sister? How on earth could she make this right?_

"Are you quite alright, Miss Bennet?" Mr. Darcy's voice broke through her brooding, prompting her to reopen her eyes.

"Perfectly, thank you, Mr. Darcy," she quickly returned.

The colonel, who had looked a little concerned, smiled at her reassurance and turned to his cousin, "Say, Darce, will you not _properly_ introduce me to this lovely lady?"

Elizabeth could not help but laugh at the colonel's ongoing antics. Mr. Darcy performed the requested office, though to Elizabeth his manner made it seemed to have been done somewhat begrudgingly. It did not escape her notice that upon introducing her as Miss Elizabeth Bennet, the colonel's — Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam, as it were — widened fractionally and he cast a smug look back at his cousin. It was a curious exchange, but there was no telling what might have been said of her from Mr. Darcy's time in Hertfordshire, and it would not do to dwell on whatever aspersions might have been cast on her character — and perhaps now seemingly confirmed through her unladylike behavior in a London park.

Her attention returning to the present, Elizabeth heard Mr. Darcy telling Colonel Fitzwilliam that he had made her acquaintance and that of the rest of her family while a guest of Mr. Bingley's at Netherfield Park. Seeming to recall his manners, Mr. Darcy here made the appropriate inquiries after her family and intimated that he had not known she meant to travel to London.

Elizabeth answered for her family still at Longbourn and then took the opportunity to salvage what she could of this meeting for her sister's benefit, "I had not originally intended to accompany Jane on this trip, but I am grateful for my uncle's generosity in extending the invitation to me as well. I am surprised you had not heard of us being in town. Jane and I called on Miss Bingley some weeks ago, and she indicated that her brother was much in company with you _and your sister._ " She watched him closely for a reaction to this information, but aside from a passing shadow of anger that seemed to skim over his countenance before being schooled into his characteristic indifference, she learned little from the study.

Mr. Darcy indicated that Miss Bingley had not mentioned her presence in town and here they were joined by Mrs. Gardiner and Jane Bennet, who had at length completed their visit to the modiste. Introductions were made accordingly, the colonel was subsequently given a well-deserved setdown from Madelaine Gardiner (though it cannot be said that he was entirely unsuccessful in charming Elizabeth's aunt as he was able to obtain the Gardiner's direction so that he might call on them to _properly_ make amends for his unbecoming conduct and include Mr. Gardiner, as Elizabeth's guardian, in his apology), and the company, having paid for their purchases, went their separate ways. It can well be imagined that each party thereafter had much to discuss amongst themselves.

*These lines are from Robert Burns' _Ae Fond Kiss,_ published in the 1792 volume of _Scots Musical Museum_ (a collection of Scottish folk songs).

 _**_ This quote (an earlier observation of the same idea as "beauty is in the eye of the beholder") is from David Hume's essays, _Moral and Political_ , published in 1742.

 **A/N: My muse stopped in for coffee yesterday and helped me work out the rest of the dialogue for this chapter. I hope you enjoyed it. I have not a single note for the next chapter, so we'll see how quickly I'm able to pull it together.**

 **As always, click below to REVIEW, FAVORITE or FOLLOW my story. :)**


	28. Chapter 26

**CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX**

Colonel Fitzwilliam silently observed his cousin from his seat across the carriage as Darcy tapped out a steady rhythm with the heel of his right boot, his gaze fixed out the carriage window in a studied avoidance of any sort of engagement with the carriage's other occupant.

At length, Darcy appeared to sense his cousin's scrutiny, and turning to find the colonel watching him with a bemused expression, he huffed, " _What_ , Richard?"

"Nothing of great import, Darce. I was simply sitting here wondering if we might arrive at our destination more expediently if we put you in a harness rather than the finely matched pair of horses presently offering their services," Colonel Fitzwilliam smirked, nodding downward to where his cousin's leg still drummed out an even tempo on the carriage floor.

At the colonel's response, Darcy ceased movement of his leg abruptly, crossing the offending limb over his other as though to keep in under better regulation.

Schooling his expression into one more serious than that which his cousin's singular behavior might have otherwise provoked him to wear, the colonel cleared his throat. "In all seriousness, Darce, I do have something I would speak to you about."

With a sigh that would have gone undetected had the colonel not been watching him with considerable interest, Darcy turned his head to look at him, wordlessly nodding for him to continue.

"Many months ago you mentioned that should I wish to give up my commission, you would —" the colonel hesitated, picking at a nonexistent piece of lint on his coat in an uncharacteristic display of uncertainty that gave his cousin pause, "—you would be so generous as to give over the small estate you hold in Scotland so that I might have something to live on in the absence of the small sum the army affords me." Here Richard looked up to meet Darcy's gaze as he asked, "Does your offer still stand?"

"Why the change of heart, Richard? You were adamant that you could not accept my offer at the time," Darcy leaned forward, brow furrowed and elbows resting on his knees as he awaited his cousin's answer.

The colonel looked out the carriage window momentarily, apparently gathering his thoughts, "It has lately come to my attention that there are things in life more worth pursuing than fortune or personal glory — not that there is any true glory to be found in battle. A dreadful business, that." He said, subtly shaking his head — whether to emphasize his point or as a futile attempt to shake loose the horrific imagines his time on the continent had imprinted upon his mind, Darcy could not guess. "In any case, I have little desire to return to the fray, however much it improves my father's prospects in the house. I would much rather find myself a pretty wife and settle down to enjoy the remainder of my days in relative peace," Richard offered in explanation, chuckling lightly as he added, "Can you not just imagine a brood of young Fitzwilliams running about?"

Darcy paled. His gaze fell momentarily to the carriage floor where he searched for some nameless thing before opening his mouth as though to respond. Words apparently failed him as he closed his mouth without any utterance and closed his eyes for the barest of moments to gather himself. The colonel looked on in fascination, patiently awaiting his cousin's response.

At length, Darcy opened his eyes with a heavy sigh and searched out Richard's eyes to meet them. "Do you—" he swallowed thickly over the bile rising in his throat, "Do you have a specific lady in mind, or do you speak in generalities?"

"Miss Bennet would do nicely, I think." Richard replied without hesitation, meeting his cousin's gaze. If Darcy was pale before, he was the vision of death now. All trace of colour drained from his features, and his Adam's apple bobbed in his throat as he glanced unseeingly out the carriage window.

"She has no money, Richard," he ground out in a hoarse whisper.

"You forget I have already ascertained as much myself, Darce. I well recall your consternation at learning I had been so forward as to ask the lady if she were an heiress."

"Her connections—"

"Are of little consequence to me, cousin. You have eyes — and ears beside. She is a lovely creature — something about her eyes grips one's very soul — and intelligent to boot. I am prepared to make some sacrifices to have such a woman at my side — and in my arms — for the remainder of my days," The colonel waggled his eyebrows suggestively at this last part, observing that this reflection seemed to bring a curious amount of colour back to his cousin's features — along with a distinct clenching of his jaw. As Darcy's only immediate response was something of a low growl that Richard chose to ignore, he continued, "If you are so kind as to make good on your previous offer, we shall live quite comfortably, I believe."

"The earl would never approve," Darcy returned.

"It is fortunate then that Gretna Green is en route to Scottish Estate Name then, is it not?" Richard quipped.

"Elizabeth would never agree to such a foolish course of action," Darcy returned harshly, his anger stirred all the more by the raised eyebrow and amused grin his cousin wore in response, "This is a serious matter, Richard. I do not see what amuses you."

"Do you not?" Richard asked, to which Darcy merely huffed in response.

Darcy appearing oblivious to his own gaff, Richard saw fit to continue, "Come now, Darce. Will you support me in this endeavor, or do you have more to say with regard to duty and family honor — none of which I have not heard before, I should tell you."

Darcy dragged his right hand down his face roughly, a stuttering sigh escaping his lips as he stared once more out the window, studiously avoiding his cousin's gaze. "Do you love her, Richard?"

The colonel was silent, taking in the appearance of absolute dejection Darcy exuded in that moment — the slight slouching in his usual rigid posture, as though he were collapsing in on himself — and he considered that perhaps he had taken the charade too far. Believing his suspicions adequately confirmed, therefore, he replied with a question of his own, "Do you?"

~P&P~

"Come now, Darce, do not pout." Richard teased, following his cousin into his study upon their arrival back at Darcy House.

"I do not pout, Richard," Darcy scoffed, pulling roughly at his gloves and tossing them upon the imposing oak desk that held place of prominence in the room. As was his wont when he wished to avoid speaking to the company, he ventured toward the nearest window, crossing his arms tightly across his chest and leaning against the window frame as he stared down to the street below with little true interest in what he might see there.

"Of course not," Richard reconsidered as he dropped into an adjacent armchair, tossing his hat and gloves onto a side table, "Brooding is more your style."

At this, Darcy tossed a answering glare over his shoulder at his cousin before returning his gaze to the street below where indistinct figures flitted back and forth in the fading light of day.

Richard had begun to wonder if he had truly gone too far and was assessing how he might salvage the conversation when Darcy spoke again, "Did you know? When you met her in the park, did you know who she was?"

"Of course not, Darce. I was as shocked to discover you knew my pirate queen as you were."

" _Your_ pirate queen?"

"Come off, Darce. You know what I mean."

"I am not entirely sure I do, Richard. What of all this talk about giving up your officer's commission?"

Richard drew his palm down his face and sighed deeply before leaning forward and gesturing for Darcy to join him. Seeing his cousin's reluctance, he entreated him, "Come, Darce. Allow me to apologize and explain myself. _Please_?"

With a sigh, Darcy crossed the room to join him, but not before collecting a decanter of brandy and a couple glasses from the sideboard. Upon seating himself opposite his cousin, he poured himself a glass, and seeing the colonel's expectant gaze lingering on the other glass, scoffed, "You may pour your own — _after_ you explain yourself."

"Fair enough," Richard replied with a barely restrained air of amusement. He allowed his cousin to drain his glass before clearing his throat to begin, "I had no idea that you might be acquainted with the young lady I met at the park. It was not until I happened upon the two of you in Hatchard's that I discovered her identity through your introduction and put two and two together." Darcy's brow drew together, prompting the colonel to elaborate further, "You recall our discussion on my first visit upon your return from Hertfordshire?"

"Vaguely," Darcy returned, but the wary look on his countenance spoke to his having an inclination as to the direction their conversation was tending.

"There was mention made at the time of a young lady who had captivated you during your stay in Hertfordshire — so much so that you, with your overinflated sense of familial duty, saw fit to flee the county of her residence," Richard could not resist his teasing — which earned him a withering look from his cousin and a firm stoppering of the brandy decanter, "Oh nevermind that," he waved off Darcy's gesture, "I can no doubt satisfy my thirst with a finer specimen of the French variety in father's liquor cabinet — he has not your scruples."

"A trait his son has seen fit to emulate," Darcy returned dryly.

Richard merely chuckled at the barb and soldiered on, "What I failed to divulge in the course of that conversation is that in expressing her concerns to me, Georgianna also shared with me the name of the young lady you had written of with curious frequency."

Darcy stiffened visibly at this revelation, " _Richard_ —"

But Richard would continue, ignoring the interruption, "So it was that when you introduced us in Hatchard's that I realized that far from being _my_ pirate queen, the lovely Miss Elizabeth Bennet was in fact _your_ fair lady whom you had been so blue-deviled at having left behind in Hertfordshire so many weeks past."

Darcy exhaled forcefully, running his fingers through his hair and leaning back fully into the large armchair he occupied, "It is as you say, Richard. But what of all this talk of Scotland? Have you — have you no intention of pursuing Miss Bennet yourself?"

"With you as my rival? I would not dare, Darce," Richard leaned forward, reaching out to nudge his cousin playfully.

"You sought her out a second time at the park, Richard," Darcy returned — it was not a question.

"Ah," Richard sat back in his chair and laughed somewhat nervously, "Tom mentioned that, did he?"

"My staff is exceptionally loyal, Richard. There is little that goes on that does not get back to me."

"I shall keep that in mind before requesting use of your carriage in the future," Richard replied, "I am surprised you had not mentioned it before now."

"I do have other matters to attend to aside from scolding you for every breach in propriety."

"Do you? I had no idea."

"It would require more than the work of one man in any case."

"Your matters of business?"

"Keeping you in line. Managing an estate is child's play in comparison."

"I am not so bad as all that, Darce. I have not the flair for the scandalous that some possess. I am perfectly harmless."

"And Miss Elizabeth? What of her?"

"I was merely fascinated with the lady — and bored. Idle hands and all that."

"She is not a lady to be trifled with, Richard," Darcy all but growled.

"Certainly not, Darce," Richard bristled at the implication, "Out of sorts as you may be regarding the lady, you do know me better than that. She was never alone. I would not have approached her otherwise. I doubt Miss Elizabeth has any expectations of serious intentions on my part stemming from our brief encounters, however enjoyable. I am not one to toy with a lady's heart — nor her virtue," Richard added the last part with a pointed look at his cousin.

"My apologies, Richard," Darcy answered with all due contrition, his posture relaxing ever so slightly, "But are you certain you hold no affection for her?"

"She is delightful, cousin, but I am not one so easily touched as, say, Bingley. I hardly know Miss Elizabeth. I am certain she and I would have great fun together. We share a love of the ridiculous and tendency toward mischief that would likely provide ample entertainment. Perhaps such an alliance could lead to love in time, but I am not the one in love with her now. You are a better man than I, Darce, and your discrimination is unparalleled. If she has earned your adoration, she must be deserving of it — and thus she must be deserving of you. I would never stand in the way of that. Besides, I would be better off with someone a little more serious — though perhaps not so serious as you—" he quipped, "—to keep me in line. I have it on good authority that I have a tendency to get carried away in my various escapades." Richard smiled brightly at Darcy, who was staring fixedly at the ornate rug on which their chairs were positioned. "As for the nonsense about Scotland, it was merely a ploy to uncover your feelings for the lady."

"You will not give up your commission?"

"I will not. While the prospect of having a small piece of land to return to once this bloody mess on the continent is finally at end is comforting, I am honour-bound to return to my men on the peninsula. Old Boney needs defeating, and it is not for rich men to vote for war and direct the lives of others while using their rank and privilege to avoid their part in paying the cost of those decisions."

"There are few in our circles who would agree — at least not in action."

"True. I am aware, however, that you are one of the few who would, were you not bound by duty to remain where you are. In any case, circumstances being what they are, I have no intention of potentially making any young lady a widow — least of all the lively Miss Elizabeth Bennet. She is yours, cousin."

"She is not for me, Richard."

"I beg to differ, Darce. You were quite cozy there in Hatchard's before I interrupted you. Come with me to call on the Gardiners on the morrow."

Darcy let out a strangled laugh, "You all but invited yourself to Gracechurch Street, Richard."

Richard shrugged, his lips curling up into a grin, "After the sound lashing I received from Mrs. Gardiner, it was certainly presumptuous of me, but someone had to do something. I certainly could not count on you to do it, and I dared not hope for another chance encounter to throw you in Miss Elizabeth's path again." Darcy shook his head, his lips turned up ever so slightly.

"I will think on it, Richard, and give you my decision in the morning."

"Very well, though I will call you a fool if you throw away this opportunity," Richard returned, standing and gathering his hat and gloves as he sensed his impending dismissal.

"I have no doubt that you will."

 **A/N: Hello, friends! It has been an age. My apologies. This one has been rattling around in my brain for weeks in various stages of completion. But at long last you finally have insight into one of the conversations that followed that fateful encounter in Hatchard's. Thoughts? I know many of you were rooting for the good colonel after the last few chapters, however, much as I do love Colonel Fitzwilliam (and truly, who would not love him even more for his obvious concern for his cousin's happiness?) in his many fanfiction portrayals, I thought it unfair for Elizabeth to be pursued by three gentleman at once. In other news, I am accepting suggestions for the name of the small Darcy estate in Scotland, so send those my way as you think of them.**

 **You know the drill: Click below to Review, Favorite, or Follow!**


	29. Chapter 27

**CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN**

Elizabeth had long lain awake with only her thoughts to keep her company by the time the sun began to trickle in through a slit in the curtains of the Gardiners' modest guest room. Jane's soft, rhythmic breathing beside her brought her little comfort as she gazed up at the elegant pattern of the canopy above her. As her eyes traced the intricate floral design, she revisited — once more — the events of the day prior. Mr. Darcy had not behaved at all as she would have expected. She struggled to reconcile the austere gentleman she had met in Hertfordshire with the almost genial one she had encountered at Hatchard's. Perhaps Mary was right. Had she misjudged him? His own apology for his errant remarks at the assembly in Meryton coupled with the seeds of doubt that had been sown against Mr. Wickham's character — and consequently the truth of the accusations he had laid at Mr. Darcy's door — left her more puzzled than ever over just what sort of man Mr. Darcy was. She huffed in frustration — a reflex she immediately regretted as her sister stirred beside her. Watching silently as Jane curled up impossibly tighter in the bedclothes, leaving a scant corner of the blanket to cover Elizabeth — which served her right for disturbing Jane, she supposed — she considered that perhaps her preoccupation with that gentleman had to do with his friend. She could not dismiss him out of hand when he was quite possibly their only remaining hope of renewing their acquaintance with Mr. Bingley.

 _"How curious that the mysterious colonel should be Mr. Darcy's cousin, Lizzy. I can hardly believe it." Much to Elizabeth's relief, Jane held her observations regarding the strange encounter on Bond Street until they were safely ensconced in their guest room at Gracechurch Street. Aunt Gardiner had been curiously silent on the subject of the encounter at Hatchard's that afternoon, but the shrewd glances she cast in Elizabeth's direction on the carriage ride home and over the course of dinner gave Elizabeth a sense that she should not expect the silence to last._

 _"Nor can I, though I confess I was equally surprised at the conversation Mr. Darcy and I had prior to his cousin joining us."_

 _"How so, Lizzy?"_

 _"We did not argue, as we so often have in the past."_

 _"Perhaps it is because Caroline was not present to set you against one another."_

 _Elizabeth had to clasp her hand over her mouth to stifle the laughter that bubbled forth, "Bravo, Jane!"_

 _Jane colored and picked at her nightgown self-consciously, "I should not have said that."_

 _"You were mistaken in her regard for you, Jane. You have every right to feel some bitterness over her slight. I certainly think no less of you for expressing an opinion of the lady that I have long held," Elizabeth squeezed Jane's hand._

 _"So you found something on which you and Mr. Darcy agree then?" Jane redirected the conversation, still embarrassed by her own slip of tongue._

 _"Not precisely. I was surprised at our similar turn of mind on some subjects, but it was his willingness to discuss those on which we did not see entirely eye to eye rather than hand down his opinion as indisputable fact that was truly unexpected."_

 _"That is not so surprising, Lizzy, surely. He is an intelligent man, and he seems to value your opinion."_

 _Elizabeth scrunched up her nose at her sister who merely laughed at her disbelief, "Scoff all you want, but he was very attentive to any conversation of which you were a part during his stay in Hertfordshire. He inquired after your opinion more than once, as I recall. If the man did not wish to know your mind, it hardly seems wise to have kept making such inquiries in light of the rebuffs you so often offered in return."_

 _Elizabeth simply smiled and shook her head at her sister, silently acknowledging that she had perhaps been a little hard on the man._

 _"I am curious to know what you spoke of, Lizzy," Jane prodded._

 _"Poetry mostly—" Elizabeth's eyes shone with mischief as she met her sister's gaze, "— and marriage."_

 _Jane gaped at her, aghast at such a revelation. It was very well indeed that their Aunt Gardiner was not privy to this conversation._

 _"You see, Jane. It was all rather shocking."_

 _"That was rather forward, Lizzy, I do not—"_

 _"He mentioned it first, Jane," Elizabeth interrupted her sister._

 _"Hmm," Jane murmured._

 _"Hmm, indeed." Elizabeth teased._

 _"Do you think Colonel Fitzwilliam will keep his appointment to call on Uncle Gardiner?"_

 _"I have no doubt that he will. I believe he finds great amusement in the whole affair."_

 _"And do you think Mr. Darcy will accompany him?"_

 _"I doubt it, Jane. It is one thing to encounter us on Bond Street, but it is quite another to condescend to visit us in Cheapside. He appears to have more pride of place than his cousin. I do not believe he will spare us any further notice."_

 _"I will not argue with you, Lizzy, only—" Jane hesitated, wringing her hands nervously._

 _"What is is Jane?" Elizabeth scooted closer to her sister, wrapping her arms around her as they sat huddled together on their shared bed._

 _"Lizzy, if he should come, you will be kind, won't you?"_

 _"Jane, I—" Understanding dawned on Elizabeth as she leaned back slightly to better osbserve her sister's countenance. If Mr. Darcy did not come — or if he came and Elizabeth drove him away — their one remaining connection to Mr. Bingley would be severed. Her sister could not bring herself to suggest Elizabeth could be culpable in such an outcome, but she feared it all the same. Shame descended on Elizabeth as she squeezed her sister tighter. She would do better, if only for Jane._

"You are thinking too loudly, Lizzy. I cannot sleep," Jane complained in a voice still thick with sleep, drawing Elizabeth out of her reflections.

"That is very well, Jane, as it is time for us to be up in any case," Elizabeth replied, attempting to keep her tone light.

"How long have you been awake?" Jane stifled a yawn as she sat up in their shared bed.

"Long enough for my thoughts to build into a dull roar, it would seem," Elizabeth maintained an air of levity.

Having awoken sufficiently to take in her surroundings, Jane sat up, studying her sister quietly for a moment, but appeared to think better of sharing her findings with Elizabeth. Instead, she adopted a smile to match her sister's and threw back the bedclothes so that she might arise.

"Well, I suppose we should dress and go down to breakfast. It would not do to lie abed all morning when it is very likely we will have visitors."

Elizabeth put on a smile for her sister's benefit, though she still doubted they would have more than one caller. Mr. Darcy would not come to Cheapside.

~P&P~

Fitzwilliam Darcy could not help but smile as he entered the breakfast room at Darcy House to see his sister delicately sipping a cup of hot chocolate, the corners of her mouth pulled up as though she were entertaining a pleasant thought. It had not been that long ago that he despaired of her ever fully recovering from her disappointment, as it were. To see her smile and laugh again brought him such pleasure. She still shied away from social situations outside the bounds of their immediate family. He could hardly fault her for a diffidence he himself shared, but still she must learn to venture out more if she were to move comfortably within the circle they occupied in society. The ton would draw their own conclusions if she refused to do so, and he knew all too well that they would not be kind in doing so. He was awakened from his ruminations by a masculine voice addressing Georgiana — a voice he knew all too well.

"You are here early, Richard," he greeted his cousin who stood at the sideboard, shamelessly piling his plate high with every manner of delicacy Darcy House had on offer with an intentional tone of censure before turning to his sister and addressing her with far more affection, "Good morning, Georgiana. You seem in a cheerful mood this morning. I am happy to see it."

Georgiana could only offer him a bright smile in return before his cousin replied, "Phssh. You merely feel it is early because you wiled away the hours abed yourself this morning, Darce. Very unlike you, too. I was quite concerned. You may ask Georgiana," here the colonel gestured to the younger of his two cousins, a certain glint in his eye as he paused before inquiring, "Was there anything in particular that disturbed your rest, Darce? I often find the need to lie abed late after a night of deep contemplation. Particularly when my thoughts tend toward consideration of my future felicity."

"I would venture a guess that your habitually lying abed rather late has more to do with your evening social activities than serious consideration for your future," Darcy deflected.

The colonel merely grinned at his cousin's avoidance before returning his attention to the sideboard where Darcy soon joined him to procure a cup of coffee and a sampling of the available breakfast fare. Their respective selections having been made, the gentlemen seated themselves on either side of Georgiana.

"Have you any plans for the day, brother?"

"Richard and I have some morning calls to make, but I shall be home to join you for tea this afternoon," Darcy replied.

"So you will be joining me then?" Darcy turned to see the Cheshire grin spreading across his cousin's features and silently willed him to say nothing further.

"Anyone of my acquaintance?" Georgiana inquired, curious regarding the silent exchange taking place between the two men.

Before Darcy could respond in the negative, his cousin replied, "Miss Elizabeth Bennet," with a lopsided grin to himself followed by what could only be described as a conspiratorial look toward his sister. If there was any doubt as to Georgiana's understanding of the situation, the sudden choking noise issued from her direction and her widened eyes as she covered her mouth with her napkin and glanced between the two gentlemen confirmed it. Darcy exhaled forcefully.

Having sufficiently recovered herself, Georgiana all but pleaded, "Might I join you?"

"Of course—"

"Absolutely not," Darcy spoke over his cousin, who only seemed more amused at Darcy's vehemence. "Richard, we are not calling on Miss Elizabeth. _You_ are calling on Mr. Gardiner to offer an apology for the indecorum exhibited in your previous dealings with his niece."

"I am well aware, Darce. And yet you would join me with no apologies of your own to offer. I wonder why that might be."

"Richard."

"I see no harm in Georgiana coming along, Darce."

"I would prefer to get this first visit over with. It would be wise to see how your apology is received before we request to make further introductions. While I am certain they would offer no objections to making Georgiana's acquaintance on her own merits," here he glanced over at his sister who was observing the exchange with rapt attention, his features softening for her benefit before returning his attention to the exasperating man across from him, " _You_ r lapse in propriety may give the lady's guardians some pause."

Ignoring the intended rebuke, Colonel Fitzwilliam latched onto the underlying implication of Darcy's statement and grinned wickedly as he responded, "This will be the first of many visits to Gracechurch Street then, eh, Darce?"

~P&P~

He had come.

Madeline Gardiner appeared pleased as she thanked Parker, the Gardiners' butler, for his information and told him to show the gentlemen in. At his departure, she turned her attention to her niece beside her, and could not help but chuckle at the younger woman's wide eyes and slackened jaw. She glanced across the room at Jane who was similarly engaged in observing Elizabeth.

"Oh, do close your mouth, Lizzy. You are liable to catch a fly if you continue in such a fashion, and I should not like to be forced to explain to your mother how I came to allow her daughter to disgrace herself by sputtering about wildly with the son of an earl in attendance," Aunt Gardiner smirked. Across the room, Jane, ever the fine lady, coughed quietly to conceal her amusement. Elizabeth snapped her mouth shut and turned slightly to look over her shoulder at her aunt, rolling her eyes in response before returning her gaze to the door through which their guests would soon enter.

"Are you truly so surprised, Lizzy?" Aunt Gardiner scooted closer, lowering her voice so as not to be overheard.

Elizabeth hesitated, worrying her lip before responding, "I _am_ surprised, aunt. I do not know what he could mean by it. My impression of Mr. Darcy during his stay in Hertfordshire led me to believe he would defer to rank rather than merit in determining those worthy of his attention. I mean no slight to you, of course, aunt. Mr. Darcy could not bestow his notice on anyone more deserving than yourself and Uncle Gardiner."

As Parker reentered the parlor to formally announce their guests, Mrs. Gardiner stood, readying herself to receive them. Moving to join her husband across the room, she paused, turning back to her niece. Placing a gentle hand on Elizabeth's forearm, she spoke in a hushed tone, "I have always observed, Lizzy, that people are apt to behave as they are, not as we believe them to be." Without waiting for a response, she glided across the room to greet their visitors.

Mr. Darcy strode into the room with all the confidence of a man who knew his place. While his usual mask of hauteur was absent, his subdued manners stood in stark contrast to the near giddiness of his companion. The colonel, who positively beamed, was certainly in a good mood for a man come to make his apologies for more than one lapse in propriety. Elizabeth noted the way Mr. Darcy's gaze swept the room upon entering it. She felt herself flush slightly when his gaze came to rest on her and the corners of his lips upturned ever so slightly. Before the gentleman's lips could fully betray the unforgivable weakness of good humour, however, his attention was called to Mrs. Gardiner and her husband as that lady proceeded to make the necessary introductions.

Once the introductions were made and the rather tedious greetings between those already known to one another were exchanged, Colonel Fitzwilliam address Mr. Gardiner, "Might I have a few moments of your time, sir? My cousin, I am certain, will be happy to entertain the ladies while we converse privately."

Elizabeth nearly choked in her attempt to contain her laughter as Mr. Darcy's gaze flew to his cousin before narrowing as he took in the colonel's impish grin. The poor man obviously had not anticipated being left on his own with the ladies. Oblivious to Mr. Darcy's discomfiture, Mr. Gardiner bowed his temporary farewell to the ladies and led Colonel Fitzwilliam down the hall to his study before the former gentlemen could make any attempt at renegotiating the arrangement.

Mrs. Gardiner invited Mr. Darcy to take a seat before the ladies resumed the positions they had occupied prior to their guests' arrival. She attempted to draw the austere gentleman out with the usual topics of polite conversation, but had very little success.

Jane Bennet took pity on the poor man, trying her hand at drawing him out in her aunt's stead, "Mr. Darcy, is your sister in town at present?"

"She is," he replied.

Jane had clearly expected him to elaborate. She seemed at a loss as to what further she might add and cast a pleading look in Elizabeth's direction. Elizabeth released a quiet sigh of resignation before turning slightly toward their visitor, "And how is Miss Darcy finding London, Mr. Darcy?"

Elizabeth voice seemed to recall Mr. Darcy from wherever it was he had gotten to, "I fear she finds it a trifle intimidating, Miss Elizabeth," he answered.

"How so, sir?" she inquired with a tilt of her head.

"She …" he paused, swallowing thickly as though it cost him something to answer her, "That is, we — our family — tend to draw a bit of notice when we are out in society. She likes the entertainments of which she can partake well enough, but despite Georgiana not yet being fully out in society, her movements about town are noted and speculated upon. Such unwanted attentions can be daunting."

We. Elizabeth wondered whether it was only his sister who was overwhelmed by the prying eyes and wagging tongues of London society.

"I can understand her reservations, sir. I am never completely at ease in the company of strangers myself. I do not have my sister's liveliness or wit to ease my way in company. Her presence is such a comfort to me, as I am sure yours is to Miss Darcy." Jane cast a tender gaze toward Elizabeth.

Elizabeth missed her sister's affectionate gaze as her attention was fixed on Mr. Darcy's crinkled brow as he looked at Jane as though he had never truly seen her before. _Curious_. Suddenly his gaze shifted to meet her own. He offered her a warm smile before returning his attention to Jane.

"Thank you, Miss Bennet. I cannot rightfully claim Miss Elizabeth's ease in company, but I would be content with knowing I provide my sister even half the comfort you find in yours."

"I am sure you do, Mr. Darcy," Aunt Gardiner affirmed, eliciting a nod of gratitude from the gentleman.

"You are likely not aware, Mr. Darcy, but my aunt also hails from Derbyshire," Elizabeth observed.

"Truly?" Mr. Darcy brightened at the revelation, causing Mrs. Gardiner to chuckle in amusement.

"Ah! Now we have caught upon a topic that captures your interest, Mr. Darcy," Mrs. Gardiner teased.

Elizabeth could not help but note how handsome Mr. Darcy looked with a bit of heightened color.

"I confess that I have far more affection for Derbyshire than town, madam."

"I cannot say that I blame you there, sir. I hail from a little town of no consequence in that delightful county. My father ran a small bookstore in a little village called Lambton until his passing several years ago."

"But—" Mr. Darcy looked quickly between Mrs. Gardiner and her nieces, "—but then you are James Waverly's daughter?"

It was Mrs. Gardiner's turn to be in shock, "Y-yes."

A broad grin spread across the gentleman's face before he remembered himself, schooling it into a more somber expression, "I was very sorry to hear of his passing, Mrs. Gardiner. He passed but a year after my own dear father."

"You knew him then."

"I did. I frequented his shop during my visits home from school — perhaps you were away at school yourself at the time? I do not recall being introduced."

Mrs. Gardiner laughed outright, "You flatter me, Mr. Darcy. I was very likely married before you were off to school yourself."

Mr. Darcy dared not refute her, instead continuing in his former vein, "When my own father passed, Mr. Waverly was a great source of comfort and fatherly advice. He was the best of men."

"Thank you, Mr. Darcy," Elizabeth's aunt replied, her eyes misting over ever so slightly.

Evidently aware of the response he had unintentionally elicited, Mr. Darcy cleared his throat and attempted to redirect their conversation, "Do you have any other acquaintances remaining in Lambton, Mrs. Gardiner?"

Much to Elizabeth's astonishment, Mr. Darcy and Mrs. Gardiner spent the next several minutes discussing half a dozen common acquaintances, a recent wedding in the village, children and grandchildren of a number of the residents, a fire that had taken place a year prior, and a number of improvements that had been made to the village and surrounding area in recent years. Mrs. Gardiner cast a number of glances toward Elizabeth during their exchange.

"I confess I am surprised at your intimate knowledge of Lambton and its inhabitants, Mr. Darcy. Few estate owners can claim such a knowledge of their own tenants, let alone the surrounding villages."

"You may be right, Mrs. Gardiner," Mr. Darcy offered a wry smile, "However, an estate owner is as dependent on the success of his tenants and the villages surrounding his estate as they are on his provision and good stewardship. It is no credit to any of the parties to disregard the others. My own father was of a mind that knowing the individuals under our care to the extent our differing situations permitted was paramount to mutual understanding and better enable us to anticipate their needs."

 _Well, if that did not sound familiar._

As if reading her thoughts, Mr. Darcy gazed warmly at Elizabeth before finishing his thought, "My belief in my father's wisdom as well as my own experience have convinced me this is true. Besides, I have been acquainted with many of the shop-owners of Lambton and their respective families since I was but a boy in short-pants, running the fields and making every sort of mischief with the very cousin whose antics have brought us here today."

"Not much has changed with that one, then?" Mrs. Gardiner laughed.

"He has swapped out short-pants for breeches, madam, but little else has changed," Mr. Darcy grinned madly. Elizabeth could not restrain her laughter. _Who was this man?_

It was at this moment that Mr. Gardiner and Colonel Fitzwilliam rejoined them. Elizabeth's uncle was patting the younger man on the back fondly as they reentered the room. The pair of them turned their attention to the room's occupants and stopping short at the merriment displayed therein.

"I had meant to apologize for depriving you of my company, ladies, but it appears you were adequately entertained in the interim," the colonel addressed the ladies.

"We were just speaking of your favorite topic," Mr. Darcy smirked at his cousin, causing more than one of the ladies to giggle.

The colonel narrowed his eyes at his cousin but then turned to address Elizabeth instead, "Whatever have you done with my bore of a cousin, Miss Elizabeth? I entrusted him to your care, and you return him to me thus?"

Elizabeth returned his impertinence with a smirk of her own, "It appears I am not to be trusted, colonel. Perhaps we may call ourselves even?"

Colonel Fitzwilliam chuckled and offered her one of his exaggerated bows, "Indeed, Your Majesty." Straightening, he turned to address his cousin, "Well, Darce, shall we? I fear we have already taken up more than our fair share of these good peoples' time this morning."

"Of course," Mr. Darcy's rose to take his leave.

The ladies likewise rose to see their guests out. As the gentlemen accepted their hats and gloves from the Gardiner's butler, Mr. Darcy turned back to the ladies, "Mrs. Gardiner—" he paused, twisting his gloves between his hands, belying his confident tone, "I would like to invite you and your nieces to join my sister and I for a walk through Hyde Park on any day this week that might be convenient. I would be very pleased to be allowed to introduce my sister to you all. She is very eager to make your acquaintance." A distinctly red hue crept up from beneath his cravat at this last bit.

Mrs. Gardiner had mercy on the poor man, informing him that they were free two days hence and inquiring as to what time would be most convenient.

He hesitated to answer, which led Elizabeth to interject, "Perhaps avoiding the fashionable hour would be wise — in deference for Miss Darcy's comfort?"

Mr. Darcy breathed out an audible sigh of relief, much to Elizabeth's amusement. If you had asked her even a day before, she would have assumed he was relieved at being spared so a public an outing with persons so decidedly beneath him. But now? Now she was inclined to believe that his concern was mostly, if not solely, for his sister's comfort. _Confounding man_. She shook her head, smiling to herself as the gentleman bid their adieus and she and her relations each returned to their own quiet amusements.


End file.
